| Grace Cathedral Hill
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| All wrapped in bones of setting sun
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| All dust and stone and moribund
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| I paid twenty-five cents to light a little white candle
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| For a New Year’s Day
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| I sat and watched it burn away
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| Then turned and weaved through slow decay
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| We were both a little hungry so we went to get a hot dog
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| Down the Hyde Street pier
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| The light was slight and disappeared
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| The air, it stunk of fish and beer
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| We heard a Superman trumpet play the national anthem
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| And the world may be long for you
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| But it’ll never belong to you
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| But on a motorbike
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| When all the city lights blind your eyes tonight
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| Are you feeling better now?
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| Are you feeling better now?
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| Are you feeling better now?
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| Some way to greet the year
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| Your eyes all bright and brimmed with tears
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| The pilgrims, pills and tourists here
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| All sing «Fifty-three bucks to buy a brand new halo»
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| I’m sweet on a green-eyed girl
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| All fiery Irish clip and curl
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| All brine and piss and vinegar
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| I paid twenty-five cents to light a little white candle
|
| And the world may be long for you
|
| But it’ll never belong to you
|
| But on a motorbike
|
| When all the city lights blind your eyes tonight
|
| Are you feeling better now?
|
| Are you feeling better now?
|
| Are you feeling better now? |