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Leaning backwards a memory |
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Staying on the periphery |
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To all the things that used to be |
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I'll say goodbye |
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To the smoky rooms, where they piss their time |
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To the alright boys, left with no rhyme |
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To all the ploys as dumb as mine |
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I'll say goodbye |
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Nothing ventured, nothing gained |
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Put it down to expenses, it's all the same |
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To all the players of the game |
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I'll say goodbye |
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To the wait in line and don't complain |
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To the fake pretending not to be sane |
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To the someone's loss is always my gain |
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I'll say goodbye |
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To the people cocktail, that does not mix |
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To the have-it-all by dirty tricks |
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Of national airwaves jammed by pricks |
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I'll say goodbye |
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To the chilled and labelled haunted face |
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To the claustrophobic can't do space |
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To every lace curtained place |
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I'll say goodbye |
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Through the thin and unsupported walls |
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To the talking big and acting small |
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To the last ordered home time call |
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I'll say goodbye |
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To the third rate butcher's dance-hall-mix |
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To the gain attention finger clicks |
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To the try it on the wind-up slicks |
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I'll say goodbye |