| Here I walk, here I walk
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| Looking for an angel’s wings in the den of the hawk
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| Here I am, here I am With a choice between an also ran and a sunbed tan
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| And you thought you’d found your own little look
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| How I misjudged, how I mistook
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| And you thought you’d found the style of your hair
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| I guess tonight I’ll take, I’ll take these troubles to the rocking chair
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| So I’ll take these high-heeled shoes
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| And yes I’ll take these traditional views
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| I’ll take this deep despair
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| Of a 30 year old squere, to the rocking chair
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| Here I sit, here I sit
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| Looking for a warming smile in a house of cold wit
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| Here I stand, here I stand
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| Torn between the balding drunk and no man’s land
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| And they’ll tell you when you’ve reached your peak
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| Where the wolf-whistle rung there’s a deafening shriek
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| Blowing kisses into thin air
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| I guess tonight I’ll take, I’ll take these troubles to The rocking chair
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| So I’ll take this awkward stance
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| And I’ll take this sexless dance
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| I’ll take this deep despair of a 30 year old square
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| To the rocking chair
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| Am I skinny? |
| A shade too fat?
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| Mmmm… My friend the cat knows all about that
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| Am I happy?
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| (here I sit, here I sit)
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| Just a little sad
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| (looking for a warming smile in a house of cold wit)
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| Mmmm… My friend the cat knows all about that
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| Am I skinny?
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| (Here I walk, here I walk)
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| A shade too fat?
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| (Looking for an angel’s wings in the den of the hawk)
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| My friend the cat knows all about that |