| I’m labeled unbred, on sight unclean
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| Got a message from home, saying it don’t exist no more
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| Cos we’re sick of the sight of you using so freely the door
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| Got a bunch of good friends, they treat me so well
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| They pay me a lot of money, but it’s under the thumb
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| But it keeps me in a crowd, and I don’t have to speak to anyone, anyone
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| But it comes to the point, it’s wearing me spare
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| All the lessons to be learnt grow pale by compare
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| You’re the only dream left —
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| The only dream left
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| I’m disheveled, I’ve been leveled by the mirror in my room
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| Got a ghost I got to cope with — it won’t be ignored
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| And it’s more trouble now than I ever considered before
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| It’s a debt that needs paying with a sliver of soul
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| All attempts to forget it have flown out the door
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| And I’d like to take heart but the force of my grip is so poor
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| Far too poor…
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| But it comes to the point, it’s wearing me spare
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| All the lessons to be learnt grow pale by compare
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| You’re the only dream left
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| The only dream left… |