| A lowlife lullaby for the one they call «unwell»
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| Document your hell
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| Our kingdom’s slowly dying sings St. Anne’s mournful bell.
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| Alcohol and horses, your muse kept entertained
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| This self destructive lifestyle, stagger towards your end.
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| The bed’s on fire again.
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| Empty glasses, still the answers to be found
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| Much lamented faces, I’m reaching for the ground.
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| Who find that work interrupts their drinking?
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| Reputation sinking
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| Oh, the possibilities! |
| Oh, what might have been?
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| Wallow in the the defeat,
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| Haunt Dean and Greek and Frith Street
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| In the shadows we all stand
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| Of the backbones of this land
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| Refuse to settle down.
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| Empty glasses, still the answers to be found.
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| Much lamented faces, I’m reaching for the ground.
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| Drift pass foriegn places, ghost through the alien crowds
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| Hundred thousand choices, but I’m reaching for the ground.
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| Drift pass forign places, ghost through the alien crowds
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| Hundred thousand choices, but I’m reaching for the ground.
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| Empty glasses, still the answers to be found.
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| Much lamented faces, I’m reaching for the ground. |