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All the things that I ran from
I now bring as close to me as I can
Ripping hotel sheets with gritted teeth
My montage of lost things, my
Shining trinkets of grief
Why don′t you give me a call?
Open my mouth, yes, I'll take it all
And all this work gone to waste
You make me climb, then you shut the gate
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Writer(s): Florence Leontine Mary Welch, David Algernon Bayley Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
