| It’s only me the tattooed girls and the freaks
|
| Standing here lost at sea
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| Old ideas and paper bones is all we are
|
| And all we’ll ever be
|
| The skies as gray as an old man’s hat
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| Left behind on an empty bench
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| The crowds are gone and we’re all alone tell me now
|
| Does anything here make sense?
|
| I’m not sure exactly how I feel
|
| I’m not sure exactly how I feel
|
| I’m not sure exactly how I feel
|
| Your happiness hardly seems real
|
| Wonder Wheel, Wonder Wheel
|
| Perched above this world with its insistent tides
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| That wash ashore skeletons of old boardwalk rides
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| And feelings that haven’t died
|
| The day belongs to unfinished songs
|
| I should’ve sung
|
| And dreams I should’ve dreamed
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| Lost and found or left behind either way
|
| We come to be redeemed
|
| I’m not sure exactly how I feel
|
| I’m not sure exactly how I feel
|
| I’m not sure exactly how I feel
|
| Your happiness hardly seems real
|
| Wonder Wheel, Wonder Wheel |