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There's a piece of you on a piece of paper. |
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It's got you enveloped in a drug store letter |
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It's left in my pocket for moments i'd like you to share |
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cause i believe that you're there when i read |
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how i caused a scene |
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how you're poorer than dirt |
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and it's then that i flirt with |
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the thought of our home |
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emptied and alone |
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it seems clear what you know you should do. |
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start new. |
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And though we continue to age, |
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we never change. |
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Still assembling new names |
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for a repeating problem |
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and if the sum and the parts stop where they start |
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there's no progress, there's no progress. |