| I never was a violent man
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| Said the man in the bar with his head in his hands
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| Trying his best to understand the cause of his dismay
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| But years of gin have broken him
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| And left him cold where he fitted in
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| It’s too late to turn around and find another way
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| All the lights in the late night lock-in
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| Fade away when he gets in
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| And the girl from fifteen years ago
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| Has packed and gone away
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| She said it’ll never be what it used to be
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| What happened to all that energy
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| You took too many liberties, and I’m tired of being afraid
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| So night after night she took flight
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| Hiding swollen eyes and a wounded pride
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| The best years of her life denied, sold for liquid shares
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| All the lights in the late night lock-in
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| Fade away when he gets in
|
| And the girl from fifteen years ago
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| Has packed and gone away
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| The victims of this world, are advertised on posters
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| A beach and a pretty girl, if you just take this potion
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| It’s another week 'til his cheque comes through
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| He’s got a fiver left now to spend on food
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| But the doors of the bars are open, and he breaks another rule
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| He sits on the stool that bears his name
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| His favourite glass is called the same
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| And he’s never kept waiting, 'cause he pays the landlord’s wage |