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The terraces of the 70's |
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Are only filled with rain |
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The corner shops and B-roads |
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Were flattened by the main |
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Our old estate's still standing |
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And shaken by each truck |
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But the house where we first made love |
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Went down to let the tarmac up |
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Headstrong |
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The wallpaper curled and dirtied |
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The curtain rail pulled off |
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The first time you cried and scratched my back |
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I heard your old Dad cough |
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And after on our elbows |
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We watched the traffic crawl |
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Underneath the orange lights |
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And across your bedroom wall |
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Headstrong and cocksure |
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I pick my friends like scabs |
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And none of them heal |
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And when my finger stabs |
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None of them feel |
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Now the nightclubs are shut for you |
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You must be 24 at least |
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But I'll still come in spirit |
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First love won't rest in peace |
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Headstrong and cocksure |
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Those were our horizons |
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Our holiday for two |
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Just beyond the cooling towers |
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Our panoramic view |
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I don't remember leaving you |
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We both were in a state |
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There always are a lot of girls |
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Looking for a candidate who's... |
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Headstrong and cocksure |