| Did I introduce myself, I think I said
|
| On the night under discussion
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| With its lowlight, smoke-filled arena crowd
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| Crowing on about the dreams they never had
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| And suspicions of broken beds
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| I was tired and may have forgotten
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| Before you said it was time to go
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| Desperation
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| It doesn’t suit you well
|
| You don’t know what you’re made of
|
| Until you and the bottle have made up
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| Then this conversation’s homicide
|
| There’s no turning back
|
| There’s no staying the same
|
| This is not a forced march
|
| I did not ask you to go
|
| There’s no turning back
|
| There’s no staying the same
|
| Believe me when I tell you
|
| I would never let you fall
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| Did I say enough toward the question of
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| You riding around in circles
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| Around the places that were built before you were born
|
| Did I say enough
|
| Was it really that rough
|
| Hiding from the spaces in the places that you never lived without
|
| There’s no turning back
|
| There’s no staying the same
|
| This is not a forced march
|
| I did not ask you to go
|
| There’s no turning back
|
| There’s no staying the same
|
| Believe me when I tell you
|
| I would never let you fall
|
| When you’re falling down
|
| And I’m not around
|
| Could you forgive me, yeah
|
| When you’re falling down
|
| And I’m not around
|
| Could you forgive me, yeah
|
| When you’re falling down
|
| And I’m not around
|
| Could you forgive me, yeah
|
| When you’re falling down
|
| And I’m not around
|
| Could you forgive me, yeah
|
| Could you forgive me, yeah |