| Dear Sir,
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| We know what your about,
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| You cannot say,
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| We didn’t see it,
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| 'Cos we can see, that your slacking,
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| Well its another habit that your cracking,
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| Whats the movement if you don’t move?
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| What have you got left to prove?
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| Im not sure, how to stick to the floor,
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| I smashed on to your ceiling,
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| Let me sleep awhile, cos I cannot stand,
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| Break my fingers, hold my hand
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| Whats the movement if you don’t move?
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| What have you got left to prove?
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| And I’ll write and I’ll write,
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| But nothing here reminds me of you,
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| You left a post-it on your door,
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| Saying I don’t wanna see you no more,
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| But sir, I know your lying,
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| This time I’ll disappear, into my career,
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| Cos nothing in here reminds me of you.
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| Dear Sir, quietly slip away,
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| The last leaf fell we all saw it,
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| Cos we can see, that you flagging its not just your heels that your dragging,
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| Whats the movement if you don’t move?
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| What have you got left to prove?
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| Whats the movement if you don’t move?
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| What have you got left to prove?
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| And I’ll write and I’ll write,
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| But nothing here reminds me of you,
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| You left a post-it on your door,
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| «I don’t wanna see you no more»,
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| But sir I know your lying,
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| This time I’ll disappear, into my career,
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| Cos nothing in here reminds me of you. |