| Peel away the long drift that’s so pale
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| You’re hanging on by your fingernails
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| The mirror I play that never gets it right
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| That you solicit in the middle of the night
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| A frozen skyline stood on an icy rail
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| You’re hanging on by your fingernails
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| Maybe it’s too late to hear it
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| Maybe it’s too late to buy
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| But when you’re always saying means believing
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| Baby it’s too late to cry
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| Threw open them doors
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| Rode in on them coattails
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| You’re hanging on by your fingernails
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| I like to dream of things in the opposite of no
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| Like Dixon long to Smith to Thomas in on goal
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| The truth of knowing any part of it could fail
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| Ya we were hanging on by our fingernails
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| Maybe it’s too late to hear it
|
| Maybe it’s too late to buy
|
| But when you’re always saying means believing
|
| Baby it’s too late to cry |