| Lying in an empty room
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| Sunlight breaking through the blinds
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| Shadows in venetian lines
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| Longing is a state of mind
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| For home
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| And I don’t where you are, I don’t where you are, I don’t where you are,
|
| I don’t where you are
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| Another memory that I refuse to follow
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| Brings itself out of the dark
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| Disappears just like the last
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| Another shiver from the past
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| Is gone
|
| And I don’t where you are, I don’t where you are, I don’t where you are,
|
| I don’t where you are
|
| London, pretty and dark
|
| New york, maybe central park
|
| Tokyo, neon and flash
|
| Berlin, baby, dressed in black
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| Eastbound and westbound across
|
| This world you go
|
| To be lost
|
| I thought I might have made it out to see you
|
| Ride in on a midnight bus
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| Or on a plane against the dusk
|
| But I don’t like to travel much
|
| From home
|
| And I don’t where you are, I don’t where you are, I don’t where you are,
|
| I don’t where you are
|
| London, pretty and dark
|
| New York, maybe central park
|
| Tokyo, neon and flash
|
| Berlin, baby, dressed in black
|
| Eastbbound and westbound across
|
| This world we go |
| To be lost |