| White kitchen walls with a thousand windows
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| Turn on Winston in the den
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| And I’m still asleep but I can hear the piano
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| When you make breakfast after 10
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| And I smell the coffee on your fingers
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| I still smell the perfume in the bed
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| The crushed linen roses on everything
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| And you’re still inside my head
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| You gotta make her know how it feels to miss you
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| Let her know you’re swapping sides
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| You’re not the one with all the problems
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| You’re the one with all the pride
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| So just pick your head up boy, and
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| Walk away
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| Walk the coolest walk that you know
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| Cause in a month or two she’ll call you
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| You gotta hang up the phone
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| I hope she knows I’ve got this memory
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| That won’t ever seem to break or bend
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| A thick lock &sheet rock is on my windows in the kitchen
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| I don’t think I’ll ever take em’down again
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| And I’ve learned a lot from all these break ups and make ups
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| And fuck ups and fake ups
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| Things that I wish you could comprehend yeah, comprehend
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| But for now I’ll lace up these wingtip shoes, boys
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| And I’ll go have breakfast with my good friends
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| You got to make her know how it feels to miss you
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| You got to let her know you’re swapping sides
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| You’re not the one with all the problems
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| You’re the one with all the pride
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| You got to make her know how it feels to miss you
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| Let her know you’re swapping spit
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| You’re not the one with all the problems
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| She’s the one that’s full of shit
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| So just pick your head up, boys and
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| Walk away
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| Walk the coolest walk that you know
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| In a month or two she’ll call you
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| You got to Hang up the phone… |