| Sitting alone, the comfort zone
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| Your feet up on a Sunday morning
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| The same skin that you were born in
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| Who’d of thought it could stretch so far
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| There’s nothing wrong, the football’s on
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| A warm beer and a chicken sandwich
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| Growing old, fat, gaseous and rich
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| Say what a lucky bunny you are
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| You can sing yourself a lullaby
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| You are born, pay taxes then you die
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| Lost in the moment
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| Lost in space
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| Lost on the way to your happy place
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| (and you can’t go back, and you can’t go forwards)
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| Lost all the hunger
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| Lost your pain
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| Lost any will to be alive again
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| Sitting alone, the safety zone
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| No sweat and no excitation
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| In your five star fortification
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| Are you locking them out or locking you in?
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| A whisky rye, surrounded by
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| Everything that you’ve ever wanted
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| Well half cut is better than half dead
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| Singing, «gotta be in it to win»
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| You are on your way to where you are
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| This will do ‘til you find Shangri-la
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| Lost in the moment
|
| Lost in space
|
| Lost on the way to your happy place
|
| (and you can’t go back, and you can’t go forwards)
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| Lost all the hunger
|
| Lost your pain
|
| Lost any will to be alive again
|
| (and you never say die, but you never say live either) |