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I can’t feel you anymore
I can’t even touch the clothes you wear
Every time I come into your door
You leave me stranded in the middle of the air
. . .
Idiot wind
Blowing through the buttons of our coats
Blowing through the letters that we wrote
Idiot wind
Blowing through the dust upon our shelves
We’re idiots, babe
It’s a wonder we can even feed ourselves