| In that tiny bakery
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| Well, she fills her head with memories
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| Of sweetest days she’s ever owned
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| Simple cares wrapped in a bow
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| Slipped in her bag and taken home
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| Short address she doesn’t know
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| But she walks around with hopeful feet
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| Moving toward a day when they will meet
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| A day that they will meet
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| It’s just another day
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| Just another day
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| Just another day in canteen land
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| It’s more than I can stand
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| Every morning starts the same
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| She wakes at dawn begins to bake
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| She fills the bowls up lovingly
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| And stirs the mix while whistling
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| The simple tune of «Now's The Time»
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| You’ll come knocking and you’ll find
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| Standing there with open arms
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| Whispering, «I knew it all along.»
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| Just another day
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| Just another day
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| Just another day in canteen land
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| It’s more than I can stand
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| (The problem is is when you’re waiting around for something. You have no idea
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| that the thing you’re waiting for, is waiting for you. |
| So all you can do is sit
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| tight.)
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| This is not too much to ask
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| To be back with her better half
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| All the men was worth her wait
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| Even if she doesn’t know his name
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| It’s all part of the game
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| Just another day
|
| Just another day
|
| Just another day
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| Just another day
|
| Just another day
|
| Just another day
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| Just another day in canteen land
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| It’s more than I can stand |