| Each morning after Sunblest
|
| Feel the benefit, mental arithmetic
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| I waited by the staff room
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| In time for benediction
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| Living a law just short of delusion
|
| When we fall in love there’s confusion
|
| This must be the place I waited years to leave
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| To our voices nobody’s listening
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| We shiver in the rain by the touchline
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| Then a coach ride to the station
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| «My lord, the carriage awaiteth!»
|
| Living a law just short of delusion
|
| When we fall in love there’s confusion
|
| This must be the place I waited years to leave
|
| This must be the place I waited years to leave
|
| And how
|
| How long?
|
| I’m listening to the words I thought I’d never hear again
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| A litany of saints and other ordinary men
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| Kneeling on the parquet
|
| Whatever has gone wrong?
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| The fear and feeling hopelessness
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| I don’t want to belong
|
| I dreamt I was back in uniform
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| And a candidate for examination
|
| History, someone had blundered
|
| And a voice rapped «knuckle under!»
|
| Living a law just short of delusion
|
| When we fall in love there’s confusion
|
| This must be the place I waited years to leave
|
| This must be the place I waited years to leave
|
| And how
|
| And how
|
| How long? |