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His Song Is Sung
by
Lambchop
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The room is warmer than it should be The light in there was barely there Slip on past it to the office To find you slumped down in your chair In the glowing of the desktop There was a yellow legal pad And on the pages he had written Numbers from his past In the spring the view was better And I smell the age on your right hand Connect the keyboard to the light switch Let the wheels begin to turn We talked the othеr night And it was all there in the numbеrs Behind your wall of photos Is what shaped the focus of his day I confess I have no purpose I'm not complaining Now these days are measured by the number Thirty summers from today We speak in loose abstracted thought Waiting for a place to fill It's not the content of the doing But what you're feeling in the end You could stay around forever Till I remember where the focus was I can see it as the wind blows All the leaves upon the floor Across the interstate the world is like another world And I wanna believe in that It should get easier with time And I'm an unnamed bird that sings this same sad song And my song is sung That'show I wanna believe in that And it gets edgier with time No one's edgier than I
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