Old man sits at his desk
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One year from retirement
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And he's up for review
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He's not quite sure what to do
|
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Each passing year
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The workload grows
|
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I'm always wishing
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I'm always wishing too late
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For things to come my way
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It always ends up the same
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And I must be missing
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I must be missing the point
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Your signal fades away
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And all I'm left with is noise
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So wait up
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I'm not sleeping alone again tonight
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There's so much to dream about
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There must be more to my life
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Poor little tin man
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Still swinging his axe
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Even though, even though
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His joints are clogged with rust
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My youth is slipping
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My youth is slipping away
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Safe in monotony
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Day after day
|
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My youth is slipping
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My youth is slipping away
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Cold wind blows off the lake
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And I know for sure that it's too late
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So wait up
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I'm not sleeping alone again tonight
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There's so much to dream about
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There must be more to my life
|
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Wait up
|
I'm not sleeping alone again tonight
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Between the light and shallow waves
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Is where I'm going to die
|
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So won't you wait up for me?
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Won't you wait up for me?
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Won't you wait up for me?
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Oh, wait up for me
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-----------------
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Boiled Frogs
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City And Colour |