Got drunk by the sunshine
I am still waiting for my red wine
You know an elegant goblet is not enough
The red rug on the ground is still rough
Have no energy for laugh or cry
Have no allergy for seesaw or slide
You sitting near a window with a beam of light above your head
It is the trauma in your heart you are trying to hide
Come here, grab my hand
We can be Bonnie and Clyde
Someone cares, someone does not
I cannot tell
But I know I can soothe your soul
Ignore the absurd tale
We are who we are
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