Dead leaves and dirty ground
When I know you’re not around
Shiny tops and soda pops
When I hear this familiar sound
When I hear this familiar sound
Thirty notes in the mailbox
Saying that I’m coming home
And I think I’m gonna stick around
For a while, say, a while, alone
For a while, say, a while, alone
If you can hear a piano fall
You can hear me coming down the hall
If I can just hear your pretty voice
I don’t think I need to see at all
Think I need to see at all
Short hair and a velvet tongue
I want to give you what you give to me
And every breath that is in your lungs
Is a tiny little gift to me
A tiny little gift to me
You think it’s the past that is sucking you down
When I come home, the one that my arms are bound
And my arms are bound
Any man with a microphone
Can tell you what he loves the most
And you know what I’m lonely for
And you’re thinking I’m a holy ghost
Thinking I’m a holy ghost
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