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Looking down on empty streets, all she can see |
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Are the dreams all made solid |
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Are the dreams all made real |
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All of the buildings, all of those cars |
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Were once just a dream |
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In somebody's head |
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She pictures the broken glass, she pictures the steam |
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She pictures a soul |
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With no leak at the seam |
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Lets take the boat out |
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Wait until darkness |
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Let's take the boat out |
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Wait until darkness comes |
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Nowhere in the corridors of pale green and grey |
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Nowhere in the suburbs |
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In the cold light of day |
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There in the midst of it so alive and alone |
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Words support like bone |
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Dreaming of Mercy Street |
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Wear your inside out |
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Dreaming of mercy |
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In your daddy's arms again |
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Dreaming of Mercy Street |
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Swear they moved that sign |
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Dreaming of mercy |
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In your daddy's arms |
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Pulling out the papers from the drawers that slide smooth |
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Tugging at the darkness, word upon word |
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Confessing all the secret things in the warm velvet box |
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To the priest, he's the doctor |
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He can handle the shocks |
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Dreaming of the tenderness, the tremble in the hips |
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Of kissing Mary's lips |
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Dreaming of Mercy Street |
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Wear your insides out |
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Dreaming of mercy |
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In your daddy's arms again |
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Dreaming of Mercy Street |
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Swear they moved that sign |
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Looking for mercy |
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In your daddy's arms |