| There’s a place in every city
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| In a bar room, dimly lit
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| Where some yellow-headed girl whispers anyone who’ll listen how she feels
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| She stoops too low, but she will conquer
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| With no malice and no guile
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| She’s the child of late night whisky talk
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| If late night whisky talk had a child
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| Do you remember Aberdeen
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| When you and I were seventeen?
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| Eyes ablaze and thick as thieves
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| And Alice, you’ll remember
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| All of the promises he made
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| That night you told me all about him in the bed where you had laid
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| And all the sheets were rolled like restless waves
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| Thrown around in disarray
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| And I loved you then but I dared not speak for fear
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| For fear of what you’d say
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| And the roads roll by so dully grey
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| And I tell myself that they’ll end someday
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| When I find out what I mean to say
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| When words come a little closer
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| If I’d known back then what I’ve since learned
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| How a fire can warm, how a fire can burn
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| We dashed down the stars but at every turn
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| If I was lost
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| In the silence I could hear your heart beating
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| In a bar room in a city street
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| With a pretty girl with blistered feet
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| I don’t know about you but I can’t compete
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| When it comes to drinking games
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| You stoop too low but you will conquer
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| As you have conquered every time
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| You’re the child of late night whisky talk
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| If late night whisky talk had a child
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| And I’ll leave you there in Aberdeen
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| In a torn red dress with that crazy grin
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| A ragged girl: red hair, white skin
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| How you made me giddy when you drew me in
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| I will leave you there in Aberdeen
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| With my heart in your hands, the way it’s always been
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| The girl I loved so deeply but I dared not win
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| Before the stars…
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| Before the stars came down |