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Pigeon Pit
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Do you remember when an airplane touched its wheels in San Francisco, and it took away your breath? Or when I laid in bed all summer listening to that little drummer beating strong inside your chest? Tell me, how many cigarettes or hours spent in front of television sets is it until you’ve had enough? Well, I’m sure that I lost track But I still can’t seem to relax So I guess I haven’t done enough There is a town in North Ontario And I wish I was there now Because there hasn’t been a living soul there since Nineteen Thirty Nine And sometimes I just don’t feel like living I remember punk rock and freshman year When English cla** made me nervous I remember crying in Frederick Street, but that was just last week Climbing up your doorstep made me scared And I guess it still makes me scared because I never what kind of mood you’re in And you know how that makes all the difference There’s just something about the way you close your eyes at night And there’s something about the way you hold your head up high And there’s something about the way you always seem to f**k things up Take me back to Winnipeg on that night that I realized that Nothing in my life makes sense I look down at my shoes and my nervous feet, confused, start running
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