| I’m riding on a train, well you know
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| Cute girl in an English hat
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| Why’d it have to rain like that?
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| And in pulling off her scarf I let go
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| It floated like a wounded bird
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| Her mouth the shape of Spanish words
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| Well, you know I think I can
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| Vanish with the evening rust
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| Join the ghost that haunted us
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| Well, you know I think I am
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| Heroic in a failing way
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| For some of us it goes that way
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| And in another place while I slept
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| Nothing gave and nothing changed
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| Every day was more the same
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| Once upon that hill we came to
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| We stretched and leaned and threw some chairs
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| The moonlight in your dark black hair
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| Well, you know I think I can
|
| Vanish with the evening rust
|
| Join the ghost that haunted us
|
| Well, you know I think I am
|
| Heroic in a failing way
|
| For some of us it goes that way
|
| Dulce et decorum est, my dear
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| It’s sweet it’s right, there’s nothing for you here here
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| When someone lets you down you free fall
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| To that bigger hand around your wrist
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| You’ll swear you never wanted this
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| Well, you know I think I can
|
| Vanish with the evening rust
|
| Join the ghost that haunted us
|
| Well, you know I think I am
|
| Heroic in a failing way
|
| For some of us it goes that way
|
| Dulce et decorum est, my dear
|
| It’s sweet it’s right, there’s nothing for you here here
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| Now I’m pouring something cold down my throat
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| And I’m thinking about you and me
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| Once we had a drink or two or three
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| But those cold and autumn stars refused
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| We were swimming in that frozen lake
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| Our eyes the sound that sirens make |