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  • A Few Minutes On Friday
  • by Bright Eyes

  • She kills, with foreign films
  • The emptiness of day to day
  • And I wait until the weekend comes
  • So I can clear this uselessness from my brain

  • I count the days until she arrives
  • Those precious minutes when she is mine
  • As we walk from my front door to her car
  • We're so close and alone

  • But that will disappear
  • In a room filled with the warmth of others...
  • Of others' company

  • There's just too much company

  • So I hide my wounded pride
  • And stare off into the other cars
  • If I could just speak the words
  • To tell her exactly how I feel

  • I count the ways that I might say it
  • But I know that none of them will work
  • Because she won't feel the same
  • We've got this far
  • But I can't go through with it
  • Because the truth would hurt too much
  • It hurts too much
  • This hurts too much

  • She goes back to the west coast
  • To drink in the sunshine
  • And I will stay here in these dead plains
  • And try to make this seed grow
  • And I would pray for rain
  • If I thought that it would help