Under the sun, sleeping.
So we'd rehearse evenings.
It was in every word, somehow.
And I was in return, so allowed.
How we began to see things.
Seems in reverse, sleeping.
It was in every word, somehow.
And I was in return, so allowed.
I want to say you're mine.
Oh, I want to say you're mine.
I want to say you're mine.
Oh, I want to say you're mine.
Writer(s): Zach Condon
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