| You’re a law unto yourself
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| And we don’t suffer dreamers
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| But neither should you walk the earth alone
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| So with finger rolls and folding chairs
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| And a volley of streamers
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| We can be there for tweaks and repairs
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| Should you come back home
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| We got open arms for broken hearts
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| Like yours my boy, come home again
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| Tables are for pounding here
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| And when we’ve got you surrounded
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| The man you are will know the boy you were
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| And you’re not the man who fell to earth
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| You’re the man of La Mancha
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| And we’ve love enough to light the street
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| Cause everybody’s here
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| We got open arms for broken hearts
|
| Like yours my boy, come home again
|
| We got open arms for broken hearts
|
| Like yours my boy, come home again
|
| Everyone’s here
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| Everyone’s here
|
| The moon is out looking for trouble
|
| And everyone’s here
|
| Everyone’s here
|
| Everyone’s here
|
| The moon wants a scrap or a cuddle
|
| And everyone’s here
|
| We got open arms for broken hearts
|
| Like yours my boy, come home again
|
| We got open arms for broken hearts
|
| Like yours my boy, come home again
|
| Everyone’s here
|
| Everyone’s here
|
| Everyone’s here
|
| Come home again
|
| The moon is out looking for trouble
|
| The moon wants a scrap or a cuddle
|
| The moon is face down in a puddle
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| And everyone’s here |