| Take me somewhere I’m not likely to forget
|
| Two singles to Birkenhead
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| Two thimbles in need of thread
|
| Where do you go when you don’t know you’ve done wrong?
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| Slipping on, running from, waking alone
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| Ohh
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| I’m coming round; |
| the words you gave me only fell to ground
|
| I like fun, where’s the fun in being alone?
|
| And counting scars you only hate the things you think you are
|
| I never get the things you say; |
| though I’ll smile anyway
|
| And turning on your side
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| You said, «Don't be too long»
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| I said I’ll be right back
|
| Though I kept my fingers crossed
|
| And sitting on your hands
|
| Well it kind of broke my heart
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| It wasn’t in the plan
|
| When we went to Conway Park
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| And as I’m slipping out
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| You whispered, «Desperate times»
|
| You say that desperate times
|
| Call for desperate pleasures
|
| They say that desperate times
|
| Call for desperate pleasures
|
| They say that desperate times
|
| Call for desperate pleasures
|
| They say that desperate times |