| It’s twelve o’clock, the TV’s on and I’m just sittin' around
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| I’m restless and blue but I can’t figure out why
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| As the drunks on the park benches
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| Are putting their blankets down
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| I’m thinking, boy, you’d better learn to cry
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| Well, I could go to sleep or else recourse to alcohol
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| I could break up some of this room or just go outside
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| I could turn up some old hit so loud I can’t hear it anymore
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| Sayin' boy, you’d better learn to cry
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| Boy, you’d better learn to cry
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| Girlfriends and wives punctuate your silence somehow
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| In darkened rooms, in flickering black and white
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| She says all the actors in this movie are probably dead by now
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| You’re thinkin', boy, you’d better learn to cry
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| Boy, you’d better learn to cry
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| A familiar face with a loving smile greets you every day
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| And failure seeps a little deeper through your life
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| Yeah, sure you gave some girl your heart
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| But you never used it anyway
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| Sayin' boy, you better learn to cry
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| Boy, you’d better learn to cry |