| The big hand makes all of your favourite things
|
| Like all your dreams go small
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| And all your friends run away
|
| Until your memories fail
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| And the words don’t fit
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| But the way the big hand smiles
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| You just won’t care about it
|
| The big hand makes all of your favourite things
|
| Like all your days run out
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| And all your hopes disappear
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| And your smiles just stop
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| And your eyes go dead
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| And the shadows start to crawl
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| In the back of your head
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| But when the big hand speaks
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| It’s like fireworks and heaven
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| So you listen
|
| Don’t think
|
| And wish for nothing at all
|
| And when the big hand sings
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| It’s like fireworks and friends
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| Leaving alone I’m not
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| Leaving alone
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| Leaving alone I’ll never
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| Leave alone again
|
| So when the big hand holds up all your favourite things
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| And with a touch like glass
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| Starts to squeeze
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| You don’t ask
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| «Why me?»
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| You just slip to the floor
|
| Just slip to your knees
|
| But when the big hand speaks
|
| It’s like fireworks and heaven
|
| So you listen
|
| Don’t think
|
| And wish for nothing at all
|
| And when the big hand sings
|
| It’s like fireworks and friends
|
| Leaving alone I’m not
|
| Leaving alone
|
| Never leaving alone
|
| Leaving alone I’m not
|
| Leaving alone
|
| Leaving alone
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| I’m not leaving alone again |