| Something tells me you’ve been missing out
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| On all the places and towns we always used to go
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| And so I’m stuck here to figure now
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| The chance we had made you pack your bags
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| Your three thousand miles
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| From the place you once called home
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| So much different
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| You’re getting distant
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| And now I’m the only one whose all alone
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| The fact about fiction is that it’s always in your head
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| So let it all go just what you don’t know is I’d pick you
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| Yeah, I’d pick you instead
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| So drink down the bottle and just go to bed
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| This whole situation is going right over your head
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| You’re out of your body, why don’t you come to mine?
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| Cause right now what it takes to fall
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| Is what it takes to climb
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| Your three thousand miles
|
| From the place you once called home
|
| So much different
|
| You’re getting distant
|
| And now I’m the only one whose all alone
|
| The fact about fiction is that it’s always in your head
|
| So let it all go just what you don’t know is I’d pick you, yeah
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| I’d pick you instead
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| So Break away from the simple things in life
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| Cause when the moon comes out
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| There is no doubt that it is always by your side
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| I never thought you could be so happy with a ticket in your hand
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| And a plane ride back to home
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| I guess for now I’ll have to settle for the fact that what we could have been
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| is what I’ll never know
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| Your three thousand miles
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| From the place you once called home
|
| So much different
|
| You’re getting distant
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| And now I’m the only one who’s all alone
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| I’m writing post cards to let you know how much I care
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| Saying, «the only thing that gets me by is when I close my eyes and pretend
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| your’e there.» |