| In this paint-by-numbers fairytale
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| I live outside the lines
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| With my yellows and my reds mixed up
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| I do not answer why
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| As I paint a perfect landscape
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| I am losing all my friends
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| And I am learning
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| That you can’t go home again
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| I am counting all the freeway signs
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| And rivers as we go
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| Out on Highway 6 in Illinois
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| The afternoon rolls on
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| Months of loneliness feed every word
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| That pours out from my pen
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| And I am learning
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| That you can’t go home again
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| You can’t go home again
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| All your memories washed away
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| Can’t go home again
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| Other summers took their place
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| Can’t go home again
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| All I can say is I wish I could…
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| With this summer rolling endlessly
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| It’s hard to sleep at night
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| Life is standing in a cemetery
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| Counting down your time
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| And I would try to write a letter
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| If I could think of words to send
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| But all I’m sure of
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| Is you can’t go home again
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| Can’t go home again
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| All your memories washed away
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| Can’t go home again
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| Other summers took their place
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| Can’t go home again
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| Whitewashed colors of the paint
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| Can’t go home again
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| But you can never get away
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| Can’t go home again
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| Though you traveled many miles
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| Can’t go home again
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| No matter how you burn inside
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| Can’t go home again
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| All I can say is I wish I could… |