| I’ve wasted years
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| I’ve thrown myself away fro you
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| slowly becoming seethrough
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| I’m glad I got tired of the suspence
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| of your neverending self-defence
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| me trying to figure what it’s like to stand in your shoes
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| still I don’t have a clue
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| you know the scars remains
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| but now I’m finally over you
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| everytime I come home he is there with open arms
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| anytime I need advice I know that I can call
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| I don’t have many precious things in life
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| but I do have him
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| and he’s quite something
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| never in my life
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| befor or after us I wanted anything
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| as badly as I wanted you
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| but I learned that sometimes what you want
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| is not what you need
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| and things may look nice in your dreams
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| but hurt in reality
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| everytime I come home he is there with open arms
|
| anytime I need advice I know that I can call
|
| I don’t have many precious things in life
|
| but I do have him
|
| and he’s quite something
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| I finally understand
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| what it means to have a home
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| now that I’ve found him
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| I know what I was always looking for
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| you kept saying that what I wanted
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| was surreal and hollywood
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| but now I proove you wrong
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| everytime I come home he is there with open arms
|
| anytime I need advice I know that I can call
|
| I don’t have many precious things in life
|
| but I do have him
|
| and he’s quite something
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| (Dank an Claudia für den Text) |