Keystone bridges clip the sky from window seats.
Smell my promises to take a pleasant start,
ease a sense of heart, give a little bit.
Don't have to stay too long.
Fed up with your friends...
Whatever I could do to mend it now.
Phone lines follow us like heartbeats in the dusk.
Sweet landscapes from the bus.
Ah the straw your neck is strong as a drawbridge in stencil.
Work all week and find defeat in the tent's intense tendrils.
On the mend we line 'em up
The slippery facts we tend to trust
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