The Wretched Sound Of City Cars

Bree Sharp

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    I woke up this morning to the wretched sound of city cars
    The cheek print on my pillow smelled of aftershave and old guitars
    So another day comes through my window creeping
    And I'm old enough to know that it's much too late for sleeping

    Cameras, cloaks, and daggers guard a heart upon a hidden shelf
    But no protection's better than the secret wall you build yourself
    And no persuasion, trick, or trade can lead you from your home
    Save the hand of love
    Even she can't keep you long

    I keep lying to myself
    And everybody, everybody
    I keep lying to myself
    And everybody, everybody else

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    Oh, seduction's like the smoke around my fingertips
    You know cigarettes can kill you, but they look good hanging from your lips
    And buried deep between the darkness and the dawn
    Is where I thought I'd try to keep you 'neath a spell of fire and song

    But I keep lying to myself
    And everybody, everybody
    I keep lying to myself
    And everybody, everybody
    I keep lying to myself
    And everybody, everybody else
    I keep lying to myself
    And everybody, everybody else

    Everybody, everybody else

    I've been lying to myself

    You're so far away
    Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore?
    You're so far away
    Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore?

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