| Where will you be when it hits you
|
| Will you be drivin' your car
|
| Or will you be there in your office
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| With them all watchin' you fall apart
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| Will it be next week or twelve months
|
| When regret starts to dampen your skin
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| Cause you turned away love that you had once
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| And you might never have it again
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| Will you be able to call me
|
| Or did you burn down that bridge to my door
|
| Did you leave it with any compassion
|
| Or a clean break that you’re famous for
|
| Do you even suspect that it’s coming
|
| That the storm is just gathering strength
|
| Where will you be when it hits you
|
| When you see what a mess you have made
|
| Where will you be when I let go
|
| When I finally get over that hill
|
| Will you be laughing and drinking and smiling
|
| When you suddenly get an odd chill
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| Will you chalk it up to the North wind
|
| That a shiver just ran up your spine
|
| Or will you realize right then what just happened
|
| That whatever I felt for you… died
|
| Will you be able to call me
|
| Or did you burn down that bridge to my door
|
| Did you leave it with any compassion
|
| Or a clean break that you’re famous for
|
| Do you even suspect that it’s coming
|
| That the storm is just gathering strength
|
| Where will you be when it hits you
|
| When you see what a mess you have made
|
| Where will you be when it hits you
|
| Will you be drivin' your car |