| The memory it hits you
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| The loss of him still hurts you
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| He’s forgotten all about you
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| Your address has got a line through
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| A postcard, photos, left behind clothes
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| That stay with you wherever you go
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| A few years on from that scene
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| She looks like her, she must be
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| He felt a sweet reaction
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| A taste of honey for all that could be
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| Gingham, Paisley, all that she wore
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| She still haunts like she did before
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| Sad love
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| The unspoken, heartbroken gift tokens
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| You’re still hoping there’s still a place where you belong
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| What’s the saddest love of all?
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| The one you never had or can’t recall
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| The one that you made up
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| Or the one one that gives you nothing at all
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| All your weak ghosts are tired your name
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| But you can hide the flames and the rain
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| The tear stained, migrained, sweet, sweet pain
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| You’re praying you both feel the same
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| Feel the same when you’re away
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| When you break up, but you don’t wanna
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| And when you see him, would still remember?
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| The rainbow in the gutter?
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| The blood upon the butter?
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| When he split town without you?
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| When you took his good pajamas?
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| Home is with a hammer
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| And you’ll hide it well forever
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| She lives in a time of her own
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| She lives in the things that you owned
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| She lives in a dream you’re still in
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| She lives with something |