| She grabs her magazines,
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| she packs her things and she goes,
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| she leaves the pictures hanging on the wall,
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| she burns all her notes,
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| and she knows,
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| she’s been here too few years,
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| to feel this old,
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| He smokes his cigarette,
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| he stays outside til it’s gone,
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| if anybody ever had a heart,
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| well, he wouldn’t be alone,
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| and he knows, she’s been here too few years, to be gone
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| And we always say it would be,
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| good to go away, someday,
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| yeah but if there’s nothing there to make things change
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| if it’s the same for you I’ll just hang
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| The trouble understand,
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| is he got reasons he don’t,
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| funny how he couldn’t see at all,
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| until she grabs up her coat,
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| and she goes, she’s been here too few years,
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| to take it all in stride, yeah
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| but still that’s much too long, to let hurt go (you let her go)
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| Same for you I’ll always hang well I always say,
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| it would be good to go away,
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| oh but if things don’t work out like we think
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| and there’s nothing there to ease this ache
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| and if there’s nothing there to make things change
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| if it’s the same for you I’ll just hang |