| Like a new winter’s coat
|
| I’m wearing your last embrace
|
| Like a cold quenching glass of water
|
| I hold a clear picture of your face
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| When are you coming around
|
| Oh when are you coming around
|
| Cos soon I’ll be cold and thirsty
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| I’m hearing your last telephone call
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| Ringing louder and clearer than
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| The rest
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| I hear your invitation to see it all
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| Better written I am smitten no Protest
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| So when are you coming around
|
| Oh when are you coming around
|
| Cos soon I’ll be bored and lonely
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| I’m tasting the last glass of your wine
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| The sweet taste linger left on lips
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| I’m tasting your sweet kisses with mine
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| The sweet taste lingers left on lips
|
| So when are you coming around
|
| Oh when are you coming around
|
| Cos soon I’ll be sober and unkissed |