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You told me on your birthday all the things that this place had done to you. |
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And in the streets you walk. |
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You hide your face because they don't believe that it's true. |
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They say it doesn't happen that often. |
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But it's happening right now. |
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I'm writing you this letter to let you know |
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I'm not alright. |
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And in this city the streets are paved with hate |
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And you cry yourself to sleep tonight. |
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And say "no, there aren't enough love songs in the sky." |
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You counted down the days till you could say "Bye-bye, city, bye-bye" |
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You're walking down on |
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UnionYou see the roads and know they're apart of you. |
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They say it doesn't happen that often |
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But it's happening right now. |
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I'm writing you a second time. |
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To let you know nothing here has changed. |
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The streets are still paved with hate. |
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So you can cry yourself to sleep tonight. |
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Will you look back on this night |
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As the day that ruined your life. |
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Will you look back on these city streets and say,"Oh, God, where are you?" |
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In these city streets |
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I hide my face. |
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I turn away when you look at me |
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And every night when |
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I try and sleep. |
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I feel your hands all over my body. |
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You stripped away the street signs and shot out all the stop lights. |
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If you smashed away all the building what would you have left? |