| Once I had money but now I’m so far from home
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| Once I was loved by a woman but now there’s nothing but cold stone
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| I was hard, man but what was there to understand?
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| Along that wind, were you searching for the start of sin?
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| Journeys taken in search of that terrible eye
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| Turned over horizons under which no sun wants to lie
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| But that trust which comes into the thick of it
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| I got that back with a stack of plastic paperbacks
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| But to love you, oh, to love you
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| But to love you, oh, to love you
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| One by one I pressed those letters in your hand
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| Like a Gutenberg Bible burning at midnight on the sand
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| You’ve been up, held where innocence has never dwelled
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| But that’s all right, there’s a Bible burning giving light, oh
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| But to love you, oh, to love you
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| But to love you, oh, to love you
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| We’ve got all night to stare into the anthracite
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| The cold black flame, we’ve been burning plastic paperbacks again, oh
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| Ooh, oh |