| Well I rode a while, for a mile or so
|
| Down the road to the 18th Avenue
|
| And the people I saw were the people I know
|
| And they all came down to take a view
|
| Oh the path was dark and borderless
|
| Down the road to the 18th Avenue
|
| And it stung my tongue to repeat the words
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| That I used to use only yesterday
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| Meanings just dropped to the ground
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| I tried to remember what I thought
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| And what I used to say
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| «Don't let me go down», no don’t let me go
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| Oh, my hands were tied
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| As I struggled inside
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| The empty waste of another day
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| Memories were blank to my eyes
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| The fire and the glory of that night
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| Seemed safely locked away
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| Too hungry to rise
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| Oh, too hungry to
|
| Well, I rode a while, for a mile or so
|
| Down the road to the 18th Avenue
|
| And the people I saw were the people I know
|
| And they all came down to take a view
|
| Oh, the path was dark and borderless
|
| Down the road to the 18th Avenue
|
| But my head felt better as I turned the car
|
| And the airport slowly came to view
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| 'One mile', said the sign
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| I checked my bags and made it straight to End Gate 22
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| Made it just in time
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| Boy, you’ve made it just in time |