We save the tonic for February when a cave is like the holiday inn
You stare ironic at cemeteries, waiting for it all
Waiting for it all to begin
Waiting for it all to begin
Still don't believe on the eve of St. Patrick but I don't think I was ever alone
It's not a secret, it's not religion, but there's nothing more I wanted
More than just being at home
More than just being at home
Then you remind me how winter falls apart
It's not the cold, it's the dark
We spend the mornings with dead and the bark in the sky each day another degree
You look for light here instead of the park, because
They're the tallest in the city, the buds start on graveyard trees
The buds start on graveyard trees
And you remind me how winter falls apart
It's not the cold, it's the dark
We run to the city, we run to the lake
First sign of sliver before we wake
Balance on the pause between your heart
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