| There’s a couple laughing
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| At the table next to mine
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| The waiter keeps on asking me if I’m alright
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| I hate to bore him with the truth
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| So I’ll just lie and pretend I’m fine
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| Without you
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| Outside the city’s slowing down
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| It’s half past 10
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| I’m staring at the door
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| And wishing you’d walk in
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| But wishing isn’t working now
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| So I’ll sleep instead
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| In a hotel bed without you
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| And I’d rather be a pauper than a prince
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| Living without you, without you
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| And I’d rather be a failure than famous
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| Living without you, without you
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| Seven hundred miles away
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| Or just one flight
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| That’s all that stands between
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| My heart and home tonight
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| And I’d walk every mile
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| To feel your hand in mine
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| It’s just no life without you
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| You know I don’t know who I am
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| Without you
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| I’m only half a man
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| Story Behind The Song:
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| This song was written the week before my first record came out. |
| I was in
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| Chicago eating alone, dreading sleeping alone, knowing it wouldn’t be the last
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| time if I wanted a life of music. |
| So I wrote this song to my wife, Becky,
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| as a promise that I would never get used to the separation, and I would always
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| choose her over work or anything else. |
| I choose her over all because God made
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| us one. |
| And when I’m away from her I feel like half a man — because I am.
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| (Mark 10: 8) |