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lyrics

It's the end of the line for those who rode
Disembark and scatter off
And across the platform
We look back at different times

Down the stairs to the tunnel gates
Where a long parade of taxis wait
And off we go again
Pretending different lives

No one writes letters anymore
They just can't wait to send
I'm holding out for something more to say
No one sends post cards
Nothing here for me to hold
Just a song that's in my head
From when we drove along that road

the alcohol that you cant drink
the games my legs won't let me play
the things we pushed down, finally pushing back

But the river flows to where it goes
and you can try to cut it off
but in the end you'll find you're downstream anyway

No one writes letters anymore
They just can't wait to send
I'm holding out for something more to say
No one sends post cards
There's nothing here for me to hold
Just a song that's in my head
From when we drove along that road

And in this heat we always burn
Someone swerves and someone turns
And all my boxes, let my child someday unpack
I don't have answers for the questions
Someone's bound to make one up
And we will go with that, and never once look back

All our stumbling - just next steps
All our falling - just some rest
and all this talking - it's just breathing with a sound
the sun rises either way
he threw a stone into the lake
damn fish must have thought the world was falling down

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Brian Franklin Fort Lauderdale, Florida

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