| Don’t forget what you know,
|
| keep in mind what you don’t.
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| You say I move too fast,
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| I say you move too slow.
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| It’s not the speed.
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| How’d you forget all the history?
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| She’s at church on the weekdays,
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| the priest leaves and she stays.
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| «God better tear those walls down.»
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| Cause I can’t hold a flame,
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| to light a fire up in the rain.
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| The bed you made and the debts I pad,
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| won’t set me free.
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| There’s nowhere left to go until the back door breaks on me.
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| Don’t forget all that I said
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| with your lies in my head.
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| You can’t seem to say the words that I can see in your face.
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| So stay in all night,
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| because I might want to come over.
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| To keep what’s left and forget.
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| To keep what’s left and forget.
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| When you turn away
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| When you’re walking home
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| On winter’s night
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| I am there with you.
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| When you fall asleep
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| on the broken ground.
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| When you walk away.
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| I am here with you.
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| Keep your eyes on the road,
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| push down on the pedal,
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| may you listen now to the silence
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| that fills in every night
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| while you echo in this heart of mine.
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| and as the silence fades every page you write
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| turns back to me,
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| you’re so clever in disguise in the light of your own marquee.
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| There’s nothing but lights and they shine all night
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| cause you know,
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| There’s nothing but history, and nothing but me leaving you alone.
|
| So stay in all night,
|
| because I might want to come over.
|
| To keep what’s left and forget.
|
| To keep what’s left and forget.
|
| When you turn away
|
| When you’re walking home
|
| On winter’s night
|
| I am there with you.
|
| When you fall asleep
|
| on the broken ground.
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| When you walk away.
|
| I am here with you. |