| Silhouettes on the bedroom walls
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| Memories of alcohol and countless cigarettes
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| It’s 3am and he can’t close his eyes
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| Watches traffic passing by and will stay there most of the night
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| He’s counting cars by the window again
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| Losing sleep to stop the world from turning
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| I’ve got a feeling that he’s been dreaming
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| That one day you’re coming home
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| He leaves the door unlocked in hope
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| Because he’s dreaming that he’s got a feeling
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| Sometimes lies keep you alive
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| He’ll be waiting every night
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| He took the mirrors off the bedroom walls
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| Painted pictures in the halls because «you'll come back one day»
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| A broken heart still beats just twice as slow
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| Lost the other half 2 months ago, and since he’s never been the same
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| He’s counting cars by the window again
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| I’ve got a feeling that he’s been dreaming
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| That one day you’re coming home
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| He leaves the door unlocked in hopes
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| Because he’s dreaming that he’s got a feeling
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| Sometimes lies keep you alive
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| He’ll be counting cars tonight
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| The window broke, the coldness forced its way into his home
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| He remembered everything and lost the hope he believed in
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| He’s a mess in distress, nothings left in his chest
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| Closed his eyes, held his breathe
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| And he’s dreaming, forever dreaming that he’d protected her that night
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| So if he could turn back time then he’d drive sober and forever hold her
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| Now he watches cars go by and hope one day he’ll see her lights |