| You were in my dream last night
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| Like every night since two years ago
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| I think my dream is trying to tell me something
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| And I say «tell me something I don’t already know»
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| Just buy me a drink so I can refuse
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| To raise my glass to these sad
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| And worn out midnight shoes
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| In my next dream, I want a pair of cowboy boots
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| The kind that walks the straightest and the most narrow routes
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| Anywhere but back to you
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| Here we are down the same old streets
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| Here we are with nothing to say
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| My little hand trying to make it into yours
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| But you put it in your pocket and look away
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| I keep my eyes on the sidewalk
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| For something flippable, like a dime
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| I want to know how you forgive someone
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| Someone you’ve forgiven so many times
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| Just buy me a drink so I can refuse
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| To raise my glass to these sad
|
| And worn out midnight shoes
|
| In my next dream, I want a pair of cowboy boots
|
| The kind that walks the straightest and the most narrow routes
|
| Anywhere but back to you
|
| Anywhere but back to you
|
| Anywhere but back to you
|
| Anywhere but back to you |