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Lyrics:
You climb six lonely sets of stairs to your apartment after another graveyard shift in the
cold dull light of morning. You walked in just in time to catch her as she’s leaving but the
schedules and the conflicts kept the roof over our heads. You said you were strong and
naive and if you were scared, well, I would understand. I don’t think I would have had
the guts to handle it. All we had were hand-me-downs. All we had was good will and you
always said it would get better. “When you’re young and you’re poor, they hang on your
failures.” You always said it would get better. I’m sick of seeing ghosts. I won’t be here
forever. We bought our first house at the advent of the 90s– a Cape Cod on a busy street
that we swore we’d fix eventually. Winter of ’93, we got by with kerosene– a heater in
the living room we huddled around shivering and me trying to get to sleep. My clothes
will smell of smoke for weeks. Just trying to get to sleep. My mother wore a sundress on
the day that she got married. They held the wedding in a backyard near the city. I was
just one then. I would never remember it but I heard the voices and implications telling
me who I could never be.
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