| You called in sick for work,
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| Leaving some details unspoken,
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| And spent the day in bed,
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| Cause your beating heart was broken,
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| Paracetamol and Countdown,
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| On mute on the TV,
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| Thinking «have I always been like this?»
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| The arithmetic repeats,
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| Mulling over your achievements,
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| Everything you haven’t done,
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| Chalking off another milestone,
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| Close the curtains, set the sun,
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| Never ever wanna ever wanna go outside,
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| Pull that duvet close and tight,
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| Just ignore the dying light,
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| Count back to one,
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| They say do whatever feels right,
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| But nothing ever feels right,
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| Weighing up the options,
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| Do nothing, do nothing.
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| Do nothing all day, when that song plays, your hands cover your face,
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| Feels like nothings ever gonna change,
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| Years ago sat by the road,
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| Waiting for the van to tow us home,
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| I was cursing my old car,
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| And you were looking at the stars and you said,
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| «Everything is infinite but nothing is eternal»
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| «Naïve romantic shite» I thought until I wrote it in my journal.
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| I won’t ever claim to have an answer,
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| I’m just hoping there’s a chance that,
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| When the darkness gets around to leaving,
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| We can get together for an evening,
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| Nothing is eternal,
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| Nothing is eternal,
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| Everything is infinite,
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| But nothing is eternal. |