I know how to get on the roof of the house
I've just never done it before.
Because someday I'll escape from a city that burns
and find my way back here with ashes across my forehead
yet it'll look here the way it would
if I were coming in from the sun
and wiping my shoes on the doormat.
Every trinket in place, the same glare between the curtains.
Someday I'll need to see what I already know differently
and I wont know how to leave
I won't know how to leave.
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