| I see your eyes burning with frustration and wet with tears
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| So I take you for a walk, and our footsteps together will free the talk
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| A city radiating light, it feels like we’re in black and white
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| Did I sound convincing? |
| Bitterness has no place here
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| And I know that no-one likes a tourist I feel like I’m one here
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| And I realise of course, we’ll criticise what’s corny
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| But I like the way it looks, and I think you’re brave
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| It’s hard to overcome, but it will cut you like a knife
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| In the middle of the night, when you should be sleeping
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| But you just stare at the ceiling
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| Past countless souvenir shops, tried hard to make you laugh
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| By Santa Maria Novella, I remember how
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| And I know that no-one likes a tourist I feel like I’m one here
|
| And I realise of course, we’ll criticise what’s corny
|
| But I like the way it looks, and I think you’re brave
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| In an orange alley, I can hear the auto-tune echo from a radio
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| It all sounds the same, but we don’t know the names
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| And I know that no-one likes a tourist I feel like I’m one here
|
| And I realise of course, we’ll criticise what’s corny
|
| But I like the way it looks, and I think you’re brave |