Slow birds
No breeze
Iron hearts
Rust in steams

Long march
Small crimes
Soft words whisper
It's time to come home
Your eyes
To bring back your charms
To sit real still
In my arms

Clocks tick
Trees pound
Lions roar on empty streets

Long lists in black and white
Red words that read like the Fourth of July
You're home
Look at me
You're home
Uhuh
You're home
In my arms

Clocks tick
Trees pound
Lions roar on empty streets

Long lists in black and white
Red words that read like the Fourth of July
You're home
Look at me
You're home
Uhuh
You're home
In my arms
In my arms
In my arms
In my arms
In my arms
In my arms
In my arms
In my arms
You're home
You're home
In my arms
In my arms
In my arms
In my arms
In my arms
In my arms
In my arms

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