| You can count on many things to let you down
|
| You can take you plans
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| And stick 'em six feet underground
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| Wouldn’t your time be better spent on days to come?
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| Not the ones that went
|
| And left you on a doorstep one grey morning
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| But there’s a rumour and everybody’s so convinced
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| But you don’t believe
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| Your eyes have seen no evidence
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| Of any good left in this town
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| Of any need to be hanging around
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| But you’ll leave the sun behind you one grey morning
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| One grey morning
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| One of many grey mornings
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| Always turning up without warning
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| One grey morning
|
| One of many dream orphans
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| Always turning up on your doorstep
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| You follow up on all the leads that lead nowhere
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| Trying to recognize
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| The need inside that led you there
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| You’ll either listen to your heart
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| Or go drown it out in a noisy bar
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| 'Til you’re overcome by the silence one grey morning
|
| One grey morning
|
| One of many grey mornings
|
| Always turning up without warning
|
| One grey morning
|
| One of many dream orphans
|
| Always turning up on your doorstep
|
| One grey morning
|
| Like today
|
| Wouldn’t your time be better spent on days to come?
|
| Not the ones that went
|
| And left you on a doorstep one grey morning
|
| One grey morning
|
| One of many dream orphans
|
| Always turning up on your doorstep
|
| One grey morning
|
| Like today |