There's a thousand black cars
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Driving around in my blood stream
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I'd have to take a thousand pills
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To find out where their headlights lead.
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Is it cold New York?
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Is it freezing in your bed?
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Because I caught a deep chill
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When I went over the Hudson again.
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It's alright, counting city lights,
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Where the Turnpike divides,
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Waving goodbye to my former life.
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I don't want to be a self-medicator
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But it's hard to sleep when you're born to run.
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I'm sick of living life in the Garden State Trap
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But all the roads are pointing home again.
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Holy Cross has got a headstone all picked out for me
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And my only job is to walk around until I fall down at it's feet.
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Maybe home is just the place you can never escape:
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From the Camden City graves to the edge of the Palisades
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It's alright, counting city lights,
|
Where the Turnpike divides,
|
Waving goodbye to my former life.
|
I don't want to be a self-medicator
|
But it's hard to sleep when you're born to run.
|
I'm sick of living life in the Garden State Trap
|
But all the roads are pointing home again.
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And I'll be counting the city lights
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Blinking on and off tonight as life passes by
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And I'm left behind, standing on the shoulder of the Jersey Turnpike.
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Buildings seem to rise like coffins full of stars getting buried in the sky.
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You want to laugh and dance... to be free? Well, alright--
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I've been thinking about those days I wanted to sleep
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And you'd wake me up just before you'd leave
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And I'd fall back into a dream:
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Walking in fresh city snow that you'd never seen
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And I'd never leave your side.
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-----------------
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Turnpike Divides
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Thursday |