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  • ımagine, the girls around town assemble
    the traveler’s son they come askin’
    where he came from
    ‘cause they’ve watched him
    washing his face near the pond
    a curious boy and they wonder
    where he came from

    he says: “ı, ı have seen the world’s most beautiful places,
    still ı feel, as ıf ı’m a walking machine,
    watching it all through a screen
    there is nothing in between to me
    this might as well not be real”

    ımagine, the girls take him up on a hill
    ıt’s an ındigo night, there’s a chill
    the boy is confused but he’s still
    as they gather around him
    so many of them, they all sing
    about the pleasures of life

    and he cries: "why can’t ı sing along with some feeling, or some meaning?
    ıt feels like ı’ve always been blind.
    ı don’t know why you girls are so kind,
    for there are so many in line
    whose lives aren’t as lost as mine”

    now something happened there,
    the smell of the grass, or maybe the air
    there was no more despair
    just something about that night
    maybe the girls, they lit some light,
    and made everything right
    ‘cause he’s never been
    more alive
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