| You yesterday, you bought a bouquet
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| And you walked around town pretending that someone had bought it for you
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| Just like in that dream that you once had
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| Then back at home, you talked on the phone
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| To the operator and the talking clock
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| You made dinner for two, drank all the wine and a good time was had
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| Then you had a row, somehow you got jealous
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| So why do you talk to yourself?
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| You met an old friend
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| Then you complained about being alone, a face in the crowd
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| And she told you to think about all the people who feel the same as you
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| You took offence — you stand apart
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| There’s no one who could share the same kind of heart
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| And you told your old friend to stick her advice in a place no sun could shine
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| And then you fell down, somehow you got dizzy
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| So why do you spin round and round?
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| Maybe tomorrow a finer day comes
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| When you stop lying there arresting your thumbs
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| The solitaire game that had lasted for weeks may uncover the meaning of life
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| The Catherine wheels that spin in your eyes
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| Help you paint by numbers and sever the ties
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| Take a long breath before living expires and reveals there’s nobody there
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| Hey, why don’t you say- say something worthwhile but save it for somebody else |