| I’ma gonna build myself a time machine
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| On particle physics and the power steam
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| It runs on diesel oil and Donnie Darko daydreams
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| Packed a pair of socks and a hunting rifle
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| Change of underwear and some snacks, a trifle
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| Scared of going back you know how I’m forgetful
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| To go back and to see the way things really used to be
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| Not the way we remember them at all
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| Packed up, sat in my DeLorean
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| Like some kind of amateur historian
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| I’ll visit the Renaissance and the Romans, the Victorians
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| Drinking in Deadwood in the 1880s
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| Rock and roll and drive-thrus in the 1950s
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| Trying not to change things so the plot lines don’t get shifty
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| Cause all you can recall, could turn out to be false
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| And what if everything were to change completely
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| If you just saw a replay of the crucial scenes
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| From the passenger window of a time machine?
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| In truth the real reason that I built this here machine
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| Was just to travel back a couple of years
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| To when we first met before the fights and tears
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| To a time when you and I first got together
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| Simple days and simple words like «forever»
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| Tripped off our tongues, come on, you must remember
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| Let’s go back and to see the way things really used to be
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| Before life quietly dismembered
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| All the best things about you and I before the doubts
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| Drowned out all of the mirth and mercy
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| Come on, baby, please, you must remember
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| Please remember |