Picking up the pieces of my life
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I wonder why the hell I ever came here
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A man without a future left to face
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And nothing but a memory to embrace
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Holding on to threads of sanity
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Imagining the roads I could have taken
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It fills me with a deepening sense of shame
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And outside I can hear the pouring rain
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There is a place
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Where in my mind I escape
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And there I understand the way I feel
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And deep in this world of make-believe
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I will spend my autumn years with you
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Sitting in this grey and sunless world
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I try to come to terms with guilty feelings
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A man about to pay the final price
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And nothing but his breath to sacrifice
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There'll be a time
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When I'll be gone from your mind
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A fading ghost that soon will disappear
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And deep in my would of endless pain
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I must face my autumn years
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I'm picking up the pieces, I'm picking up the pieces
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I'm picking up the pieces, I'm picking up the pieces
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Picking up the pieces of my life
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Autumn Years
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Johnny Hates Jazz |