| It´s a Sunday afternoon
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| and I´m sitting up tired to
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| my front, many days have passed
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| while it should have been the
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| time for us
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| It´s a someday black night and
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| I´m sitting uninspired somewhere else
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| hiding my bones, reaching fort the time
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| Well you don´t build a city in a day
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| but in twenty years you should have something
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| and while waiting for the glory days to come
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| I sing a song
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| Well it´s a Tuesday pure morning
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| I´m waking up, tired to my front
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| cause I know, there´s a lot of things to think about
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| like Friday maybe you´ll be there
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| with the needle and thread for broken hearts
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| You´ll fix mine and I´ll fix yours
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| and then we´ll mix them in a love bowl
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| Well, sorry I got carried away
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| but the truth will rise and remain
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| and while waiting for the glory days to come
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| I sing a song
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| I hope and pray to my god
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| that he will see us two
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| to guide me out of the fog
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| and we meet up in glory days
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| You don´t build a city in a day
|
| but in twenty years you should have something
|
| and while waiting for the glory days to come
|
| I sing a song |