| The trees on Golden Avenue were green as Irish morning
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| We were wearing caps and gowns
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| My mother took a photograph
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| I was the only one not smiling, I was too big for this town
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| I can’t believe that I was only 17
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| A catholic punk who couldn’t wait to scream
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| Come tomorrow
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| I’ll be leaving this worn out, worn down place
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| I’ll be drinking sunlight and dancing on the moon
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| I’ll find me a girl that suits my ways
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| Spending all my nights and days
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| Just singing drunken love songs out of tune
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| I’ll be rolling like a pair of dice, come tomorrow
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| The trees on Golden Avenue were bitter red this morning
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| As I shuffled through the crowd
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| Another dose of daily news, another cup of coffee
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| The same old runaround
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| And I turn each corner hoping that I’ll see
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| A miracle just waiting there for me
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| Come tomorrow
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| I’ll be leaving this worn out, worn down place
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| I’ll be drinking sunlight and dancing on the moon
|
| I’ll find me a girl that suits my ways
|
| Spending all my nights and days
|
| Just singing drunken love songs out of tune
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| I’ll be rolling like a pair of dice, come tomorrow
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| Going nowhere, like leaves are blowing past my window
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| Caught up in a wind they can’t control
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| That’s my story, a two bit kind of Peter Pan
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| Who never tried for Neverland
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| And I think it’s time to find my wings and go
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| Come tomorrow
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| I’ll be leaving this worn out, worn down place
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| I’ll be drinking sunlight, dancing on the moon
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| Find me a girl that suits my ways
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| Spending all my nights and days
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| Just singing drunken love songs out of tune
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| I’m gonna make it up to paradise, come tomorrow
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| Come tomorrow, come tomorrow |