| You came to watch the band
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| To see us play our parts
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| We hoped you’d lend an ear
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| You hope we dress like tarts
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| But back stage we stand naked
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| All the make-up cleaned away
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| My poet sheds his pretty skin
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| And turns to face the day
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| And there’s nothing to be done
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| No nothing to be said
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| Last night I felt immortal
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| This morning I feel dead
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| And the love that gave
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| Its blaze to my heart
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| Now brings a haze
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| Be careful, I’m an axe victim
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| Hung up on these silver strings
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| Like wings, like time machines
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| Like voices on the winds
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| We hit the road to Hull
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| Sad amps and smashed guitars
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| Played badly at The Duke
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| To almost no applause
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| But someone made it worthwhile
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| When shining with bright eyes
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| They gave me full attention
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| And took me by surprise
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| But today the feeling’s gone
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| No, faded like a ghost
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| Last night I saw the future
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| This morning there’s no hope
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| And the words that I sung so clear
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| Are now clouded by my tears
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| Please, be careful, I’m an axe victim
|
| Hung up on these silver strings
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| Like sails, like seagulls cries
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| Like church bells in the night |