We settle under the one familiar tree we always sit under.
There isn't even a cloud around, not one in sight.
What will tomorrow bring and what would bring tomorrow, in silence we wonder.
Where's your picket fence, love?
Oh, there there.
Quit crying your eyes out.
Captions, anyone?"Look into the mirror,
but what's it got to offer?"
- URA Fever, The Kills
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