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Now I can see how
We were like dust on the window
Not much, not a lot
Lorelai, Fleet Foxes
And if you don’t believe
The sun will rise
Stand alone and greet
The coming night
In the last remaining light
Disasters are just another star falling in my yard
And you run and you run to catch up with the sun but its sinking, racing around to come up behind you again. The sun is the same in a relative way but you’re older, shorter of breath and one day closer to death.
