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3am on a Sunday morning
Feeling drunk and emotionally stripped
Angry the promises your body broke
Are nothing on what came out of your lips
You said that it just happened
But its obvious you were thinking of me
I can think of nothing worse than 'staying friends'
When you've rendered everything so cheap
But I wont swap chip shops and cobbled streets
For Sun drenched skies and palm trees
Cos I live by gritty realism
While your engrossed in fantasy
It seems the fairytales and shots of sambuca
Have finally gone to your head
The graffiti I read on bus stops
Is as poetic as any of your books
And it saddens me your idea of the next extreme
Is shoving that shit up your nose
You always said we were the perfect couple
The dewy eyed cliché that I was 'the one'
While you were sleeping with two other people
My dear you cant have feelings alone
But I wont swap chip shops and cobbled streets
For Sun drenched skies and palm trees
Cos I live by gritty realism
while your engrossed in fantasy
It seems the fairytales and shots of sambuca
Have finally gone to your head
I live by gritty realism
While your engrossed in fantasy
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