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Parallel Lines

Kings Of Convenience

What's the immaterial substance
That envelopes two
That one percieves as hunger
And the other as food
I wake in tangled covers
To a sash of snow
You dream in a cartoon garden
I could never know
Innocent imitation of how it would be
If one the music entered, you did not retreat
In my imagination, you are cast in gold
Your image a compensation for me to hold

Parallel lines, move so fast
Toward the same point
Infinity is as near as it is far

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