(George Flanagan)
I’ve noticed, every time
On my bus ride down 95
The balconies on that highrise
Never seem to be occupied
But if I close my eyes and try real hard
I can figure out what went wrong
But then it’s gone
I wake up everyday
Have coffee and be on my way
There’s a balcony that faces the train
Someone lives there but I don’t know her name
But if I close my eyes and try real hard
I can figure out what went wrong
If I stop and stare
She may think I’ve seen
That she’s not alone
On her balcony

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