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Tell me Texas, flat and wide
What was it that made him cry?
Was he moved or just blue?
I feel it slip away from you

Well I know its none of mine
But I sit and wonder why
Was it tears in his eyes?
Or just a visine lie?

Tell me you think I'm doing fine
I'm feeling strange along the ride
To the cold glass I press my hand
To scan the flat of the land

Well I know its none of mine
Still I sit and wonder why
Was it tears in his eyes?
Or just a visine lie?

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