| Up North, November, and you’re playing pool
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| And leaning into it but playing it cool
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| All the shaking hands, spilling after hours wine
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| I’m thinking I could get to you in time
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| It’s too loud in here and it’s too cold outside
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| I’m not sure I’m reading the writing on the walls just right
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| Tracing the high streets to the high road
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| Take this with me on my way home
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| Could be, would you let me?
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| Could be, would you let me?
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| You wanted to say something, I could tell
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| It’s all this driving, and the bars and the hotels
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| And all the late nights and the leaning in
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| The calm before the storm begins
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| Being here could be the sign of a bad start
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| Maybe this love will tear us apart
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| Maybe it’ll just end
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| Or we’ll never not be together again
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| Could be, would you let me?
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| Could be, would you let me?
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| Could be, would you let me? |