Looking out over rooftops
Can't tell where the sky starts and where the snow stops
And it's pitch black in the colony
Lying on a futon
In a living room that's not done just yet
Can't find my legs
Again
I'm the only living thing
In this roughly fourteen hundred square foot dwelling
With rosin paper covered windows
So outsiders looking in would never know
Nobody is questioning just second guessing accepting you
I'd stay but these wet hands keep greetings at bay
Everyone is wondering how troubling it's been needing you
I'd say but I'll leave when you look away
I'm the only living thing
Lights on, lights out
At this rate I'll never leave this house
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