| The pink crucifix with the ivory Jesus I wanted
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| The man with the blood on his hands, as I ran from the river
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| Kissing my cousin, before they took her to the graveyard
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| Trembling at night from the violence I heard from my bedroom
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| These are my memories
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| These are my memories
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| Coming home
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| Called up at school, for my hand wasn’t there to say «present»
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| Running the gauntlet outside the Club Rado at dawn
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| Rory and me, without a spare string between us
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| Catching the last bus halfway through I’m So Glad
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| These are my memories
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| These are my memories
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| Coming home
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| Philip and me and 'the Brush' ridin' 'round in a Transit
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| The Bailey, the Strangely’s, the smoke and the speed and the acid
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| I lost my virginity to a Tipperary woman
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| A heart that was broken, but it wasn’t the first or the last time
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| These are my memories
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| These are my memories
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| Coming home
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| Under the wings of the man they called Green, I found freedom
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| Three children, one wife, a twist of the knife and a scandal
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| Divorce, separation, some kind of salvation came lately
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| So many have gone, but I know it’s just business as usual
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| Oh, these are my memories
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| These are my memories
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| These are my memories
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| These are my memories
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| These are my memories
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| These are my memories
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| Coming home
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| These memories keep coming back
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| Those memories keep coming back
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| All those years ago
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| All those years ago
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| These are my memories
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| These are my memories
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| These are my memories |