I must stop writing love songs
they only serve to crop up in a set
reminding me of someone I should forget
and yet tonight I'm here again
on A4 lined and tired brain
tired eyes regurgitating the same
oh it's a shame, sure.
I must cut out the smoking
get a new haircut get a new job and start to run
to work each morning with my blue shorts on
forget old lovers
dust down the covers
and try to relocate my smile
what did you say? Oh, it's a shame, sure.
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