| I was handed down the looks of a man with a broken nose
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| That’s the way our family was I suppose
|
| But at least you gave me deeply profound
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| As we lay and chatted late upon the cricket ground
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| You didn’t have to love me
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| Where others got rid
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| You didn’t have to treat me like a very good friend
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| But I’m glad that you did
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| One thing I never said to you
|
| And one thing I never can
|
| Amongst the false applause and the deafening cheers
|
| I’m your No. 1 fan
|
| I’m your No. 1 fan
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| I’m the richly blessed daughter of a mother with tattooed arms
|
| That’s the way my family life, life was charmed
|
| But at least it gave me mental grace
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| And a thought at the pit of my mind and a smile on my face
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| You didn’t have to listen
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| To a word that I’d said
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| You didn’t have to tell me all those silly old jokes
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| For every tear that I shed
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| Every tear that I shed
|
| Cos one thing I never said to you
|
| And one thing I never can
|
| Amongst the false applause and the deafening cheers
|
| I’m your No. 1 fan
|
| I’m your No. 1 fan
|
| I was handed down a bike with a crooked old wheel
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| But I rode it on a million lanes the way that you made me feel
|
| But at least we thought about it so long and hard
|
| As we sat upon our mother in the graveyard
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| And you don’t have to listen
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| To a word in this song
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| Your picture hangs the same and in the same old place
|
| Even though that you’ve gone
|
| Even though that you’ve gone
|
| Cos one thing I never said to you
|
| And one thing I never can
|
| Amongst the false applause and the deafening cheers
|
| I’m your No. 1 fan
|
| I’m your No. 1 fan
|
| Yes I am
|
| I’m your No. 1 fan |