| You may not believe it But I don’t believe in miracles anymore
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| And when I think about it I don’t believe I ever did for sure
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| All the things I’ve said in songs
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| All the purple prose you bought from me Reality’s just black and white
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| The sentimental things I’d write
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| Never meant that much to me
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| I used to be the main express
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| All steam and whistles heading west
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| Picking up my pain from door to door
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| Riding on the storyline
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| Furnace burning overtime
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| But this train don’t stop,
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| This train don’t stop,
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| This train don’t stop there anymore
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| You don’t need to hear it But I’m dried up and sick to death of love
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| If you need to know it I never really understood that stuff
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| All the stars and bleeding hearts
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| All the tears that welled up in my eyes
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| Never meant a thing to me Read 'em as they say and weep
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| I’ve never felt enough to cry
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| When I said that I don’t care
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| It really means my engine’s breaking down
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| The chisel chips my heart again
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| The granite cracks beneath my skin
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| I crumble into pieces on the ground |