| Good luck and lost love’s knife
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| Cut a path leading through my life
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| I weave through the gusts of change
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| As a kite might through the sky
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| I feel down and degraded
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| Like I felt when you and me began to tire
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| And we stopped long ago
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| But I thought it was just ceasefire
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| I can leave the past behind like any normal man can do
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| But what I find most of the time
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| Is that I have been left behind you
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| I can feel time pushing me forward
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| So what does it matter what direction I’m pointed in?
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| No one else used to sing my sad chorus
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| Now I feel that they too have joined in
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| Bad luck and lucky breaks
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| Cut paths right through our lives
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| We follow the blind man’s bluff
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| Like lorrys follow white lines in the night
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| And by our nature we are kept alone
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| No matter haw long your nails
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| You can’t cut out of the womb
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| And if I can’t crash off-course
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| You must be marooned
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| And we will not be able to go back to
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| The source of this wound |