When we were young was there something that I didn't know? It's too long, long, long. Locked out of the room even when we were home. For too long, long, long. And if the kids got in, what could they have shown? To everyone, one, one. Now the papers are signed and I'll never know what you've done. When we come home, the room's packed and we're gone. And if he comes home, will he do something wrong? Years passed and what is it that kept us around, for so long, long, long? If they neighbors asked what should I say was that sound? It's too loud, loud, loud. "Son don't you ever go over that fence. Don't you ever go in that backyard. Don't forget what happened, 'cause we'll never know what he's done." The Redhead, the Brunette, and the Room That You Can't Get Into.
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