| Open-ended, parting on a note
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| it never rang and barely ever spoke to anyone baring the slightest peace of mind,
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| cause if it did, there’d be no fingerprints to find
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| or forget. |
| dont' have the money and you know it’d be well spent,
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| keeping tabs on whichever family tree, ready to furnish an identity
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| because
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| Relative is relative,
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| relative’s not relevant in my case
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| and my case is not closed and open to interpretation or a point of view
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| you can guess you can’t know
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| that foreign stays foreign till found
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| mother, what’s in a name? |
| more than that,
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| why can’t mine be found?
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| i’m sick of home, it’s just a contest now,
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| where how can i top or put you down in your place
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| because
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| Relative is relative and relative’s not relevant in my case
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| and my case is not closed and open to interpretation or a point of view
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| you can guess, you can’t know
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| that foreign stays foreign till found.
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| and if all else fails, i can take that flight to the town i was born,
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| where you still might be staying
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| laying low and saving face.
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| think it goes without saying, this goes without saying
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| at least, i tried.
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| (Merci à Talleux pour cettes paroles) |