Monday morning, comes a crawling in
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From another weekend choked with cigarettes and sin
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I've been busy, so much lately
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That every time I get some time to spend
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I end up drunk or sleeping in
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And I miss you, you're busy too
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We call each other up, when we're messed up
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And say we'll meet in the New Year
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But it's perfectly clear we'll do no such thing
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Come the spring
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When the evening casts it's shadows on the corners of my days
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And I am old and I am settled in the place where I will stay
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When my wandering meanderings have finally reached their end
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Yeah whatever else maybe I will not forget my friends
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Friday evening, barely even begins
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Before my phone begins to ring with people asking where I am
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And I can't suppress a smile, we talk a while
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The chances are that I am far away and so I'm phased out of the plan
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And that's how I miss out, on another night
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The kind of night where nothing really happens
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Yeah but everything goes down
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And at the end I'm just a promise to pick up the phone
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When I'm in town
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When the evening casts it's shadows on the corners of my days
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And I am old and I am settled in the place where I will stay
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When my wandering meanderings have finally reached their end
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Yeah whatever else maybe may my friends remember me
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-----------------
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St Christopher Is Coming Home
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Frank Turner |