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A cup of cold black coffee on the right side of the bed |
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I picture you sleeping there next to him with your toes all painted red |
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And the misty gray skied morning, it hovers over your head |
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So will you meet me in the middle like you said? |
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I see the rain start falling as you're leaving out the door |
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He's got his hand in your pocket and you don't think of me anymore |
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Is it too selfish to suppose, love, that you'll visit when you fight? |
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Will you meet me in the middle of the night? |
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In the shade I will bring you home, you know, you know |
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In the waves I will guide your boat, you know, you know |
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And in the grave I will meet your soul, you know, you know |
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So will you meet me in the middle of the road? |
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I can tell that you've been crying driving down 5th and Main |
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You tried to so hard to forget me, you burnt the letters that I made |
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And though my memory has been dying I hope the feeling still remains |
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So will you meet me in the middle? Will you meet me in the middle? |
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Will you meet me in the middle someday? |