| Moving, keep moving, the tour never stops
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| In the light of petrol stations and cheap corner shops
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| I have finally figured a list of the things that I’ve got
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| And the things that I’m not
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| I need you, I need you, I need you to care
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| When I’m moving it’s soothing to know that you’re there
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| And that when I get home I can breathe you like heady fresh air
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| For as long as I dare
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| Honey I’m sorry, but I’ve got my sea legs again
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| If I stand on dry land for a minute, I feel sick and then
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| I have to start moving again
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| From Glasgow to Moscow, from London to Lille
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| Sat on the platform or next to the wheel
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| I haven’t got space on this postcard to say how I feel
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| But that was the deal
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| I miss you, I miss you, but I don’t ask your help
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| When I’m out on the road I look out for myself
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| I look after my guitar, my clothes and my wallet, my health
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| And nothing else
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| You’re on my phone again, well
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| What do you want me to say
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| When I’m this far away?
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| And you don’t know where I am, well
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| You’re not the only one
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| I am lost and I’m gone away
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| (Oh darling thou pluckest me out)
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| And I don’t even know where you are
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| (Oh darling thou pluckest me out)
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| And I don’t even know who you are anymore |