| I want a windless city in June
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| I want a walk down to the harbour
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| I want to play guitar like you
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| I want a saint to be my cellmate
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| I want the last dream to come true
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| A train in everyone’s back garden
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| A tunnel to the heart of you
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| A summer Sunday chiming of bodies brown
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| And the sleepy way you said my name
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| As you turn and read my fortune
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| And you pick up verses of ancient text
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| That were dripping with your legend
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| And you turned to me and said
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| «You know you’re blowing all your chances»
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| And I asked if there was time
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| You said that nothing was decided
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| You played me music I hadn’t heard
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| From a long lost eighties box set
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| And you cooked me dinner I never ate
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| And we washed up all our dishes
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| The sun was blinding the sky was dark
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| And the bells they kept on ringing
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| The rats were happy the mice were full
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| And there was something wrong with the plumbing
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| You showed me yesterday’s dress
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| The one you nicked from Mary’s Market
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| You tried to look like her
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| Cause you thought that I would like it
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| I like you better I like you loads
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| I like you unaffected
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| Take your eighties' records your books by Joyce
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| And you can pack ‘em up for the summer
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| The wind was fooling again
|
| And the sun thought about setting
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| You made the shadow shapes on the wall
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| You thought I wasn’t watching
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| The wind was messing again
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| And the sun thought about leaving
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| You made the dirty shapes on the wall
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| You thought I wasn’t watching
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| It was liberating, your puppet dance
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| It was our one true moment lasting
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| You took the slipper you took the pear
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| You made a still life out of nothing
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| It was liberating, your puppet dance
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| It was our one true moment lasting
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| You took the slipper you took the pear
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| You made a still life out of nothing, nothing
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| I want a windless city in June
|
| I want a walk down to the shoreline
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| I want infinity in a girl
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| I want a song that kills me |