| The last of the daydreams have walked out the open door
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| Avoiding any problems they might’ve had with the social law
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| Well, I remember Tuesday and every last day of my life
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| And I’ll never forget anything that stays with me at night
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| It’s the last chance for pretenders to go and get things done
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| It’s the last chance for daydreamers to live what they dream of
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| This child is walking slowly his head bent to the ground
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| Watching each step taken and his shoes, a dirty brown
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| And he don’t want a companion, has got things to say, but don’t wanna talk
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| And I remember myself like him oh, I hope that he don’t also fall
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| It’s the last chance for pretenders to go and get things done
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| It’s the last chance for daydreamers to live what they dream of
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| Go and get your army boots, my son
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| Go and get your music box, come on
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| Go and get your building blocks, my son
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| It’s time to set your sails, my boy, and run |