| Oh my, I did not recognise those eyes in that dress you wore
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| Your thighs are stuck in my mind, I’d like to carry them home
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| Release, this urge needs feeding
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| Now that’s done, was it worth the fun?
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| Tell me, could I be the one for you?
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| I don’t think I thought this through…
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| So, see you around
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| I never meant for this, you know I’m damaged goods
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| Lately I’ve listed the reasons why I can’t move on
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| And why I sleep in the house that we lived in for over three years now
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| Staring at paintings, recounting the places we’d been together
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| I try to escape but I can’t seem shake all these pictures (of us)
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| The light up on the desk still burning bright
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| The way I’m dressed suggests I left it on all night
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| I’ve probably done the same the night or three before
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| Another crowded thought for clouded minds
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| Of broken promises I’d made a million times
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| On how to let go, breathe, and do more exercise
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| It’s getting colder as the days merge into one
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| I best just lay my head and pray for morning sun
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| So from this moment on he started drifting
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| And dreamed of colours that he’d never seen before
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| And all the types of fruit he’d ever tasted
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| The air was warm, the sky was clear of water
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| Beyond the lake were trees far as the eye could see
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| This was the place we used to swim together
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| Those things up on your chest look mighty comfy
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| I best just lay my head and wait for morning sunbeams
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| Morning
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| The wait is over
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| So in we go
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| To find a home |