| I remember the first time,
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| The streets had she their hollow glow,
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| We used to think invincible,
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| And never dreamt of growing old.
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| And one of these days in the stillness,
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| One of these days you will know.
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| There must be something more to this than meets the eye.
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| There must be something else to get us through the night.
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| There must be something more to this than meets the eye.
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| There must be something else.
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| No more voices in the bedroom,
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| No more footsteps down the hall.
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| The summer’s long where the suicides hang.
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| In Barton Street, the shadow falls.
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| And one of these days in the half light.
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| One of these days you’ll see it all.
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| There must be something more to this than meets the eye.
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| There must be something else to get us through the night.
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| There must be something more to this than meets the eye.
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| There must be something else.
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| So sad to see you,
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| So sad t call,
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| So sad to see you,
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| Lit it fall, so let it go.
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| There must be something more to this than meets the eye.
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| There must be something else to get us through the night. |
| There must be something more to this than meets the eye.
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| There must be something else. |