Sitting on a broken dream
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And memories are what might have been
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Biscuit crumbs and bird seed in his
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Whiskers (x3)
|
Even though he never went to war
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He still felt something worth fighting for
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But no one else ever cared as much as
|
Whiskers (x3)
|
Whiskers (x3)
|
He sits in the moonlight on top of the hill
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Playing a penny whistle and picking thistles out of his kilt
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He rubs his paws together and it begins to snow
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As he counts up all the Christmas lights in the village down below
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He sits around the campfire and licks at his wounds
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Staring sadly back at his reflection in a spoon
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We used to want the same things when we were growing up
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But somewhere along the way I started hoping for too much
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I found his little plastic shield
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Chewed up on the battlefield
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And I knew then I¡¯d never make a friend again like
|
Whiskers (x3)
|
Whiskers (x3)
|
Whiskers (x3)
|
Whiskers (x3)
|
|
-----------------
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Whiskers
|
The Boy Least Likely To |