You are a city bus
Driving on the wrong side of the road
Where did you go?
You are the yellow paint
Holding onto fire escapes
You are a crowded stranger
Leaving when I say
That everybody always
Makes me feel the same
You are a heart for sale
Selling yourself short
You're lonely is loud
Where's your voice pouring
Through the line
Your house on the hill
Every day was springtime
Now there's a crowded stranger
Missing when I say
When everybody always
Makes me feel the same

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