| Winter’s coming, I cut my hair
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| In a dream last night, you were there
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| Next to me, I heard you speak
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| With scissors in your hand
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| This addiction’s not sweet no more
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| Its pleasant smile’s become a vicious sore
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| It’s getting worst, this burning thirst
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| Love won’t ever last
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| There’s 12 boxes out in the hall
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| I know each one, I packed them all
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| With every single possession we have
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| Now hidden from view
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| I hear ten thousand voices sing to me
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| I hear their words roll on endlessly
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| Calling for change, inside my head
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| We sing in unison
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| My headphones tangle in a knot
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| They won’t unravel
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| I am dreading walking up
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| Sitting on the bottom step
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| Even if you’re already half asleep
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| Winter’s coming I’ve grown my hair
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| Helps me reconcile this time of year
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| Without you for the very first time
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| And I’ve lost a lot of weight
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| And we have sung our last song
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| But that’s ok, that’s ok
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| Cuz, I’m not writing anymore
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| I fold the page
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| I close the door
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| Another book for another year
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| Without you
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| Without you
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| Here |