| On the very day my travel card expired
|
| I rode the train
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| All day
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| And took it to the place each line retired
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| The fate of every train
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| Oh (oh)
|
| Oh (oh)
|
| Oh (oh)
|
| If some authority had stopped to ask me why
|
| I’d stare blankly at
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| My knees
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| To see the city from that point on every line
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| Where buildings kiss the trees
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| Now I believe, I believe, I believe
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| The move seems impossible
|
| But I will leave, I will leave, I will leave
|
| If you can’t live there
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| I want to quote the city’s history books verbatim
|
| And know the names of all
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| The bars
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| Be nicer to that guy upstairs although I hate him
|
| And stop littering in other people’s cars
|
| Now I believe, I believe, I believe
|
| The move seems impossible
|
| But I will leave, I will leave
|
| If you can’t live there
|
| Now tracks they take me backs to you I go
|
| And night descends
|
| On wires
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| And TV lights reflect off every window
|
| Like blue flickering fires
|
| Now I believe, I believe, I believe
|
| There’s a house, a street, to plant your feet
|
| And I will leave, I will leave, I will leave
|
| If you can’t live there
|
| If you can’t live there |