| I'm on the red-eye flight to nowhere good,
|
| How 'bout you?
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| I've been in the air for hours,
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| Meteor showers by the pool,
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| So one last drink for summer.
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| Always leaving, never you
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| Come back to London, thunder,
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| The sound of sorrows in my room,
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| Yeah!
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| Now the tables turned, it's over,
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| With my fingers' burn I start anew.
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| Now I've come back down, I'm older,
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| I look for something else to hold on to.
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| There's no way to realize
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| Upholster skin, I take back every line,
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| Lost my mind in San Francisco,
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| Worn out disco, and temper's cool.
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| There's no water,
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| There's no sound,
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| Will you come around?
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| Will you come around?
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| There's no space,
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| There's no time,
|
| Where to draw a line?
|
| Now the tables turned, it's over,
|
| With my fingers' burn I start anew.
|
| Now I've come back down, I'm older,
|
| I look for something else to hold on to.
|
| I'm on the red eye flight to nowhere good,
|
| How 'bout you? |