| Pick up the paper in the morning light
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| Carry it upstairs through your sleepy Sunday eyes
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| Reading the front page makes you sad, you say
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| We are the lucky ones, we haven’t got a care today
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| And I don’t feel right, and I don’t feel whole
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| I couldn’t sleep last night, cause I’m all alone
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| When I imagine you and your baby blues
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| In the morning sun
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| I get those sleepy Sunday morning baby blues
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| I tossed and turned last night, I burned and crashed
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| Buried it in there in the shadows of the past
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| I got my room serviced — I got breakfast, too
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| Got a constant stream of visitors, but all I want is you
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| And I don’t feel right, and I don’t feel whole
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| I couldn’t sleep last night, cause I’m all alone
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| When I imagine you and your baby blues
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| In the morning sun
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| I get those sleepy Sunday morning eyes blues
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| Constantly moving and still looking back
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| Greasing my wheels on a slippery track
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| You pull me back- I can gently slow down
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| You’re the only peace and sweet release that I have found
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| Pick up the paper, I unlock the door
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| Carry me upstairs, leave my luggage on the floor
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| Crawl into bed with you where it’s safe and warm
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| I am the lucky one, I say as I drift away
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| And I feel just right, and completely whole
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| I slept good last night, cause I’m back at home
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| And the kettle sings, and the cats line up
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| I can’t believe it’s true
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| In your sleepy Sunday morning baby blues |