Tonight, tonight, the captain's dreams are bad
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Searching for the tear and the distant shore
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Amidst the sluts, the drifters and the thieves
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He doesn't dream of landing any more.
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Drowning in these tumblers
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Tumbles through these doors
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Swinging out to cold cement
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From sticky, hard tiled floors.
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This is the route we wander, girl
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Every god-damned day
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So, swallow hard and wipe them dreams away.
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Come to life, come to life, come to life... again.
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Come to life, come to life, come to life... again.
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The stove and the cold killed the men and the dogs
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The last glimpse of sun then all the winter is gone
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Chained at the ankles, bound at the wrists
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Stuffed into mail-sacks and tossed into drifts.
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Come to life, come to life, come to life... again.
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Come to life, come to life, come to life... again.
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The lunar eye is burning, boring through me, digging deep
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Into my chest, into my head, into my days, into my sleep
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These dreams, these days, don't give me no peace
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These dreams, these days, don't give me no peace.
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Come to life, come to life, come to life... again.
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Come to life, come to life, come to life... again.
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-----------------
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I'm So Happy I Could Just Cry Myself To Sleep -or- The Routes We Wander
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The Falcon |