| It’s the kind of night that’s so cold, when you spit
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| It freezes before it hits the ground
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| And when a bum asks you for a quarter, you give a dollar
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| If he’s out tonight he must be truly down
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| And I’m searching all the windows for a last minute present
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| To prove to you that what I said was real
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| For something small and frail and plastic, baby
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| Cause cheap is how I feel
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| Half moon in the sky tonight, bright enough
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| To come up with an answer
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| To the question why is it that every time I see you
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| My love grows a little stronger
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| But your memory leaves my stomach churning
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| Feeling like a lie about to be revealed
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| But I’ll horde all this to myself
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| Cause cheap is how I feel
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| It’s not the smell in here that gets to me, it’s the lights
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| I hate the shadows that they cast
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| And the sound of clinking bottles is the one sure thing
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| I’ll always drag with me from my past
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| I think I’ll find a pair of eyes tonight, to fall into
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| And maybe strike a deal
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| Your body for my soul, fair swap
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| Cause cheap is how I feel
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| Songwriter: Mike Timmins |