| It’s a cold northern rain
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| Two degrees above freezing day
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| I’m standing outside the chinese
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| With a glow lamp to light my way
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| See to me now
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| There’s no manual to show you how
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| But there’s reams of scrapbooks in my basement
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| And a spiral staircase down
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| So pour it out
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| It’s just a fairytale
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| You can’t even trust yourself
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| You’ve got to mark your trail
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| Yeah, people from our past
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| Their appeal just don’t last
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| Write them off for dead and then
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| You’ve realized they’ve died too fast
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| I’m supposed to be a rock
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| But I could not bear the shock
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| All a wreck at the airport
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| My nerves are all I got
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| So pour it out
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| It’s just a fairytale
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| You can’t convince yourself
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| That you’re on the right trail
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| You see through
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| My eyes
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| But you’ll never see through me
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| But I wish you all the best
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| That I must confess
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| I did not think I passed or failed
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| But it should not be a test
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| So pour it out
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| It’s just a fairytale
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| You don’t even hear yourself
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| You’re just whistling down the trail
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| You can see through me
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| You can see through me |