I'll be honest, I wasn't devastated
But you could've held my hands through this, baby
Let my mind run underneath warm jets
I run my hands through what's left
But we're getting older, baby
Don't have much longer, baby
Why am I preaching
To this choir, to this atheist?
Just like mine, versions of these belong to you
After a while, they're keeping me close to you
Just like me, they long to be close to you
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