| I saw a drunk pin stripe and a trouser suit kiss
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| In a private show for the waiters on break and the tourists
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| In a healthy glow of a wedding shop
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| A row of mannequins lined up like an audience
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| Sound check in a black box of a venue
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| Bet it remembers every flight
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| Bet it remembers every fight between midlevel bands
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| Over apathetic hands
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| They might have met once or twice, they might’ve met once or twice
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| You say yours won’t be a life spent waiting for the odd line
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| Spent trying to be two things at the same time
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| You will attack every night
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| Like you’re still holding your father’s knife
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| And love and hate like the tattooed fists came at you swinging
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| Jabbing your ribs and your chin till your lips were fat and your head was
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| ringing
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| And they waited for you to fall
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| And they waited for you to fall
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| But your glass jaw isn’t glass anymore
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| And it was never ironic, it was never smug
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| Dancing round your handbag in a High Street pub
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| And punching the air and they put
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| Springsteen on and by the time the lights came on
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| We were long gone
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| And love and hate like the tattooed fists came at you swinging
|
| Jabbing your ribs and your chin till your lips were fat and your head was
|
| ringing
|
| And they waited for you to fall
|
| And they waited for you to fall
|
| But your glass jaw isn’t glass anymore
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| Your glass jaw isn’t glass anymore
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| And the best that you can say
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| We woke up from each other
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| Opened our eyes, could barely see each other
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| To chalk out lines the people might’ve guessed had once been lovers
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| But no more
|
| And love and hate like the tattooed fists came at you swinging
|
| Jabbing your ribs and your chin till your lips were fat and your head was
|
| ringing
|
| And they waited for you to fall
|
| And they waited for you to fall
|
| But your glass jaw isn’t glass anymore
|
| Your glass jaw isn’t glass anymore
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| Your glass jaw isn’t glass anymore |