| At the edge of the world nothing is said
|
| Call a witness
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| Conversation is dead
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| We pray for the coming
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| But we don’t hear a word
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| We’re all waiting around the edge of the world
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| The loneliest place I know is my own street
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| And your very own words
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| Are the hardest to eat
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| From the shadows of plastic
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| Where you shout to be heard
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| You’re just sitting around at the edge of the world
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| The telephone is lying there on the floor
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| Somehow the moss just creeps round the door
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| And everyone’s crying from a painfull blow
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| That came down the cable centuries ago
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| Three men from the East
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| Correctly concurred
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| And left us in shackles
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| At the edge of the world
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| The edge of the world
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| Waiting in pieces at at the edge of the world |