| I remember piano lessons
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| The hours in freezing rooms
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| Cruel ears and tiny hands
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| Destroying timeless tunes
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| She said there’s too much out there
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| Too much already said
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| You’d better give up hoping
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| You’re better off in bed
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| You don’t need much to speak of No class, no wit, no soul
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| Forget you own agenda
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| Get ready to be sold
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| I feel now like Christine Keeler
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| Sleepwaking in the rain
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| I didn’t mean to lose direction
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| I didn’t want that kind of fame
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| (Take your hands off my land)
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| Credit me with some intelligence
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| (if not just credit me)
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| I come in value packs of ten
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| (in five varieties)
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| And even though I got it all now
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| My only stupid dream
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| I see you and me together
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| And how it should have been
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| I remember piano lessons
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| Now everything seems clear
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| You waiting under streetlights
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| For dreams to disappear |