I wake up in the morning, and it comes back to you
I breathe in I breathe out, it comes back to you
I stare up at the ceiling, and it comes back to you
I step out my front door, and it comes back to you
The end of my driveway, it comes back to you
Brakelights on the highway, it comes back to you
I could die in Los Angeles.
It would come back to you.
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