City spread below us from the hill. The weather white gypsy town looks to be na tural still. Someone made it real one day. Someone built a downtown mall but d idn't sign their name. <i>[something]</i> Cars become our castles s idewalks open into moats. No one walks and talks a lot anymore. So we gather r ound fatefully where we can hear, nothing felt, nothing found. I have to tell m yself I'm having fun way too many times through the night. I have to tell mysel f I'm having fun way too many times through the night. Beauty worn with age is timeless still. Can't fill my heart 'cause I can't get my fill. And the crimes that I commit against myself. Patience wanes and I embrace the patience that i s fear. Bitter pill. Sit alone at home and wait for you. Seems like what a lo nely man should do. As if lovelorn, taken from a film. Pencil in an actress wi th a paragraph. How I may find peace and meaning still in a little retreat just beyond these hills. I have to tell myself I'm having fun way too many times th rough the night. I have to tell myself I'm having fun way too many times throug h the night. I have to tell myself I'm having fun way too many times through th e night.
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