| Well, you know you’re all I have
|
| I wrote you a song
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| But you’re not here to hear that
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| Separated, it gets hard
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| It gets lonely, it leaves scars
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| When you’re out of touch
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| You think too much
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| And I know, I know how hard it is
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| But it’s all that we have left
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| Cause every time I pass your street
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| I stop at all of the same places
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| I do the same things every time
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| Talk a lot, and I feel alright
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| But I’m not that sure of myself
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| But I’m not that sure of myself
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| Six quarters I spend every time
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| Windows down, always late at night
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| I sing along to songs I wish I wrote
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| But I’m a joke
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| I can’t help the way I feel sometimes
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| I can’t help but think I am always right
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| And if you could get in my head
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| Maybe you could see that
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| Every time I pass your street
|
| I stop at all of the same places
|
| I do the same things every time
|
| Talk a lot, and I feel alright
|
| But I’m not that sure of myself
|
| But I’m not that sure of myself
|
| The rain is coming down
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| But I don’t care
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| This night is such a mess
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| When I get lonely I can call you
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| To tell you you’re the best
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| Cause every time I pass your street
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| I stop at all of the same places |