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The run-down streets, the civil wars, |
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You don't go there anymore - |
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It's how you used to live. |
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The trampled hopes, the made-up laws, |
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The itchy feet, the pub quiz bores - |
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It's so hard to forgive. |
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All sweet things, |
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All sweet things will come again. |
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Weekend slimmers count their chains, |
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Still wanting someone else to blame. |
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You watch them come and go. |
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Empty nightclub escapades, |
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They tell you more than words can say - |
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That open doors get closed. |
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All sweet things, |
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All sweet things will come again. |
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The empty rooms, the empty house, |
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Someday soon, you'll work it out - |
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Still finding the way back home. |
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The schoolyard ghosts, the playtime fears, |
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You take your pills, they disappear - |
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The people that you've known. |
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All sweet things, |
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All sweet things will come again. |
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When the heartbeat slows. |
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When the silence grows. |