Though the coffins are calling I'm not coming
|
I'm too young to listen and I'm still scrawling on
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see-saws and slides, skipping ropes and swings,
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Toothpaste and trousers, watches and wedding rings.
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She shouted to me under the juggernaut roar,
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"This is the Bad Life, what are we here for?"
|
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And wonderful world why are you full
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of endless monotony and tiresome fools?
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These people that surrounded me were damaged and done
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and we were as compatible as swimming pools and slums.
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And why are you grinning from ear to ear,
|
Isn't this the Bad Life?
|
|
Though there was leads in the petrol and bacteria in the beer
|
Though she moved away and left me hopeless, I was writing
|
I Was Here.
|
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She said this Bad Life that I'm leading is deceiving and depriving me
|
I said why don't you try relieving me, while she was reading
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I was stealing from the library.
|
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And sweetness and sadness lived in sin
|
with built-in indigestion the new buildings held their stomachs in
|
Goodness and Badness were hardly anything
|
I wanted to love her but she was never in
|
|
Though they were taking out tongues in the land of the gun
|
though the sweating was getting near
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Though her head was hung saying I did not become her, I keep writing
|
I Was Here
|
|
Though the dusts were growing in my lungs and some
|
were turning backs on the babies turning blue
|
And I adore you but before you say "I adore you too"
|
Say I Was Here, and so were you
|
|
-----------------
|
I Was Here
|
Del Amitri |