| I thought I’d write you a letter,
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| ‘bout all of the things that have changed
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| Since the days when we were king and queen,
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| Of all of we surveyed.
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| Went in all the coolest places, wore the future in our skin,
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| And we stood outside on winter nights
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| And smoked ourselves thin.
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| And we were clever and cynical and fashionably bored,
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| We were walking and talking, time out in New York.
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| But, honey, all that’s gone,
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| Baby, all that’s gone.
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| And I used to have opinions and you wouldn’t like my clothes
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| But what seemed like a position turned out to be a pose.
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| And we said that we both gonna be big, rock and roll stars
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| My soul never found a buyer, unlike all my guitars.
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| And I’ve lost touch with many things, rolled myself out of the scene
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| The time has worn a whole in me, the place I keep my dream.
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| But, honey, all that’s gone,
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| Baby, all that’s gone,
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| Honey, all that’s gone,
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| Baby, all that’s gone.
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| And I don’t have a story now, at least not one you’d care to write.
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| These memories I keep for me, in pieces of a life.
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| And I apologize for not dying young or opening up a vein,
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| And for keeping close the one I love, but never naming names.
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| To my friends, I still sound hopeful, that’s just whistling in the dark.
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| ‘cause I’m down here in the dirt with the fossil of my heart.
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| But, honey, all that’s gone,
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| Baby, all that’s gone,
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| Honey, all that’s gone,
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| Baby, all that’s gone.
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| So hope this letter finds you just as well as when we met,
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| Ambitions may have faded, babe, your beauty never did.
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| In the night when I have drunken off and I’m full of hope and wine,
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| I recall a melody, your voice and mine.
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| And we can still be king and queen, if only for tonight,
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| ‘cause somewhere in our history, our future’s shining bright.
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| But, honey, all that’s gone,
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| Baby, all that’s gone,
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| Honey, all that’s gone,
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| Baby, all that’s gone. |