| My sweetest regret is that we never met again in our later lives
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| We were caught drunk and charged of our awkward hearts
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| And never deciphered the signs
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| And the wind from the Irish sea
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| Was innocent, wild and free
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| And Aberystwyth was the only place we knew
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| We drove up there and acted fools
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| When I think about all the eves I could’ve spent with you
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| Aberystwyth makes me blue
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| There were space on the floor, under your open door
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| And a line which I struggled to speak
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| And the bakers would open at courter to four
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| For some malice to help us sleep?
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| And the wind from the irish sea
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| Caught up in the bones in me
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| And Aberystwyth was the only town we’d choose
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| Streets where we were safe in our shoes
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| And when I think about all the eves I could’ve spent with you
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| Aberystwyth makes me blue
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| When I wake up in the morning will we still be there?
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| With the smoke on our clothes, shaking sand through our hair
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| Can we ever turn back to unravel the time that we, that we
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| And Aberystwyth was the only town we’d choose
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| Streets where we were safe in our shoes
|
| And when I think about all the eves I could’ve spent with you
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| Aberystwyth makes me blue
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| Aberystwyth makes me blue |