| Better stop dreaming of the quiet life, 'cause it's the one we'll never know
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| And quit running for that runaway bus 'cause those rosy days are few
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| And stop apologizing for the things you've never done
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| 'Cause time is short and life is cruel but it's up to us to change
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| This town called malice
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| Rows and rows of disused milk floats stand dying in the dairy yard
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| And a hundred lonely housewives clutch empty milk bottles to their hearts
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| Hanging out their old love letters on the line to dry
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| It's enough to make you stop believing when tears come fast and furious
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| In a town called malice, yeah
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| Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba
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| Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba
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| Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba
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| Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba
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| Struggle after struggle, year after year
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| The atmosphere's a fine blend of ice, I'm almost stone cold dead
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| In a town called malice, ooh yeah
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| A whole street's belief in Sunday's roast beef
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| Gets dashed against the Co-op
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| To either cut down on beer or the kid's new gear
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| It's a big decision in a town called malice, ooh yeah
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| The ghost of a steam train, echoes down my track
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| It's at the moment bound for nowhere
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| Just going round and round, oh
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| Playground kids and creaking swings
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| Lost laughter in the breeze
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| I could go on for hours and I probably will
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| But I'd sooner put some joy back
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| In this town called malice, yeah
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| In this town called malice, yeah
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| In this town called malice, ooh yeah |