| You need a little light in your life
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| A safety net so you’re not so blind
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| Like hidden torches in the paper rounds of old
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| And magazines so gently thumbed by landing lights
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| When you were young as the radio would talk you off to sleep
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| Although the arcades shine bright, they don’t have the glow of the city lights
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| As they long to guide you home from time to time
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| Neon lights and screeching times
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| Swarm like moths to pier fires on the stretch about a mile from home
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| It seems a million miles away as we were are walking in the gaze
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| Of the green eyed monster on the banks of waterloo
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| Although the arcades shine bright, they don’t have the glow of the city lights
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| And they long to guide you home, you’ve got to
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| Get out of this place, get out of this place
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| Get out of this place, while your still alive Sam
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| Take some time then soon repress the thoughts of walks in dungeness
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| And the lighthouse keeper as he keeps the boats at bay
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| Remembering this little light that shines in westcliff park Drive
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| A suburban lighthouse when you need to feel safe
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| The city tonight does not feel as warm as those winter fires
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| And its good to be home from time to time |