| I mistook the warnings for wisdom
|
| from so-called friends quick to advise
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| though your touch was telling me otherwise
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| Somehow I saw you as a weakness
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| I thought I had to be strong
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| Oh but I was just young I was scared
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| I was wrong
|
| Not a night goes by
|
| I don’t dream of wandering through the home that might have been
|
| I listened to my pride when my heart cried out for you
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| Now everyday I wake again
|
| In a house that might’ve been
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| A home
|
| Guess I did
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| What I did believing
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| that love is a dangerous thing
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| Oh but that couldn’t hurt anymore
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| than never knowing
|
| Not a night goes by
|
| I don’t dream of wandering
|
| through the home that might have been
|
| I listened to my pride
|
| when my heart cried out for you
|
| Now everyday I wake again
|
| In a house that might’ve been
|
| A home
|
| A home…
|
| four walls, a roof, a door, some windows
|
| just a place to run when my workin day is through
|
| they say home is where the heart is
|
| if the exception proves the rule I guess that’s true
|
| Not a night goes by
|
| I don’t dream of wandering
|
| through the home that might have been
|
| I listened to my pride
|
| When my heart cried out for you
|
| now everyday I wake again
|
| In a house that might’ve been
|
| A home a home |