Hunting for a safe trail, sleeping where we stand / Somehow we have gone and starved ourselves of sentinels again / But who says where the dream ends and day starts? We've nothing in common but this broken compass / I'll sleep where I stand / I saw the leaves falling back to their branches / All of the leaves falling back to their branches / Under the house, end of the street / The roots they run deep where the secrets stay / Under the house, end of the street / The roots they run deep where we once played / Hey, where we once played / And the leaves float away / They float away, hey
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