| Just another town that might never recover
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| Just another friend who’s gone and lost his mind
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| Just another sunset from the city trains
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| We ride it free to the end of the line
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| It’s just a, just another wasted attempt
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| Laying sideways in the harbor
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| While all the men are out at sea
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| You say you don’t want trouble
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| That you’ve left that life behind
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| But you’ve got trouble here with a capital «T»
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| It’s like this every time
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| You know it’s like this every time
|
| It’s always like this every time
|
| It’s always like this
|
| It’s always like this
|
| So looking out across the formless frontiers
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| I scream your name down five broken valleys
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| I paint a picture of a glass-hearted girl with
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| Promises too numerous to tally and
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| In the search light that’s been cheapening the midnight sky
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| I think of you and how you had that troubled start
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| But you never let it wash you away
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| To a town where you didn’t speak the language
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| And if it did you’d always know what to say, say
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| Let the blade do the work
|
| Let the blade, let the blade do the work
|
| Let the blade, let the blade do the work
|
| Let the blade, let the blade do the work
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| For years now, all I’ve heard is «heave-ho»
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| We’ve got two good cars down on the beach row
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| And with a little bit of luck we assume
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| I’ll be going home
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| With no blood on my hands
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| I’ve got blood on my hands
|
| So laying down beneath, a pregnant pause
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| And in the constant coverage of the wars
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| We never hear of what’s been learned
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| It’s just a thousand rocks left to un-turn
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| And in her monument she is sleeping in her clothes tonight
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| And waking up before the sun has a chance to rise
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| To write her mantra across the skies
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| It reads pick up the wrench if it’s a victimless crime
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| It’s like this every time
|
| You know it’s like this every time
|
| It’s always like this every time
|
| It’s always like this
|
| It’s always like this |