| Well, I woke up in mid-afternoon 'cause that’s when it all hurts the most
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| I dream I never know anyone at the party and I’m always the host
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| If dreams are like movies
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| Then memories are films about ghosts
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| You can never escape
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| You can only move south down the coast
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| Well, I am an idiot
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| Walking a tightrope of fortune and fame
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| I am an acrobat swinging trapezes through circles of flame
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| If you’ve never stared off into the distance
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| Then your life is a sham
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| And though I’ll never forget your fac
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| Sometimes I can’t remember my name
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| Hey, Mrs. Potter, don’t cry
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| Hey, Mrs. Potter, I know why
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| But, hey, Mrs. Potter, won’t you talk to me?
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| Well, there’s a piece of Maria in every song that I sing
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| And the price of a memory is the memory of the sorrow it brings
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| And there is always one last light to turn out
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| And one last bell to ring
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| And the last one out of the circus has to lock up everything
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| Or the elephants will get out
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| And forget to remember what you said
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| And the ghosts of the tilt-o-whirl will linger inside of your head
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| And the Ferris wheel junkies will spin there forever instead
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| When I see you
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| A blanket of stars covers me in my bed
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| Hey Mrs. Potter don’t go
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| Hey Mrs. Potter I don’t know but
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| Hey Mrs. Potter won’t you talk to me
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| All the blue light reflections that color my mind when I sleep
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| And the lovesick rejections that accompany the company I keep
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| All the razor perceptions that cut just a little too deep
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| Hey, I can bleed as well as anyone
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| But I need someone to help me sleep
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| So I throw my hand into the air and it swims in the beams
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| It’s just a brief interruption of the swirling dust sparkle jet stream
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| Well, I know I don’t know you
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| And you’re probably not what you seem
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| But I’d sure like to find out
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| So why don’t you climb down off that movie screen?
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| Hey, Mrs. Potter, don’t turn
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| Hey, Mrs. Potter, I burn for you
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| Hey, Mrs. Potter, won’t you talk to me?
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| When the last king of Hollywood shatters his glass on the floor
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| And orders another
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| Well, I wonder what he did that for?
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| That’s when I know that I have to get out
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| Because I have been there before
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| So I gave up my seat at the bar and I head for the door
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| We drove out to the desert
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| Just to lie down beneath this bowl of stars
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| We stand up in the Palace
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| Like it’s the last of the great Pioneertown bars
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| We shout out these songs against the clang of electric guitars
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| Well, you can see a million miles tonight
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| But you can’t get very far
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| Oh, you can see a million miles tonight
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| But you can’t get very far
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| Hey, Mrs. Potter, I won’t touch and
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| Hey, Mrs. Potter, it’s not much but
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| Hey, Mrs. Potter, won’t you talk to me?
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| Hey, Mrs. Potter, won’t you talk to me?
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| Hey, Mrs. Potter, won’t you talk to me? |