| You are another thing that I have lost,
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| that I slipped, that I fell
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| I tried but I didn't keep you,
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| okay 'patience believe me I can do without
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| you are already a fading memory and you make no difference
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| with all that I have lost without realizing it
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| like every time I miss a sunset the next day I face
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| the same, maybe it rains like now
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| and I lost my umbrella and hat
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| but the beauty is that, it is the duel that every minute I have done with life
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| and when fate has raged against me and ready
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| I had to quickly find a way out, causing myself some injuries
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| that does not close and still burns,
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| but it doesn't matter, it's just another lost thing
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| or sometimes another thing given and then removed
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| suddenly, without warning,
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| that makes what was heaven hell.
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| RIT.
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| Hours spent measuring pain,
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| pain of head, pain of eyes, pain of heart
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| pain of soul, blood, bone
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| but that doesn't mean it can't shock me
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| after all it's just a bet that I lost
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| a promise that I believed in and that you did not keep
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| yeah, just don't lose your dignity
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| at least treating it a little with a full glass
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| like your sentences, now all lost like a bunch of keys
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| you who were looking for,
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| words to make me understand that you were clean
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| but to finish then you succeeded,
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| to lose them like 100 Lire
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| and now believe me I don't want to hear any more
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| I want to heal,
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| looking at the other face of you that I discovered
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| thinking of you only as a thing that I have lost.
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| RIT.
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| I lost trains and planes
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| more than once the wallet
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| I lost addresses, money but never pride
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| which is a mistake if it makes me lose my self-control
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| but I don't give up, I got the callus and it remains in the dance
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| it is another thing that came out of my life that sooner or later
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| it will be replaced, in a future where you will be the distant past
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| deleted, forgotten, you will be a photo
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| thrown on the bottom of a closed drawer
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| covered by some shirt that I don't use
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| and disillusioned, I'll try to hate
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| if I don't succeed in spite of myself, I will have to love,
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| but never as a cure for a void to fill
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| and don't write me don't call me, don't think about me
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| because from today I am looking for something else and I am sure
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| it's gonna be different than that thing i lost.
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| RIT. |