Texty písní The Sundays Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic Here Ehere The Story Ends

Here Ehere The Story Ends

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People I know, places I go, make me feel tongue-tied
I can see how people look down, theyre on the inside
Heres where the story ends
People I see, weary of me showing my good side
I can see how people look down
Im on the outside

Heres where the story ends
Ooh heres where the story ends

Its that little souvenir of a terrible year
Which makes my eyes feel sore
Oh I never should have said, the books that you read
Were all I loved you for
Its that little souvenir of a terrible year
Which makes me wonder why
And its the memories of your shed that make me turn red
Surprise, surprise, surprise

Crazy I know, places I go
Make me feel so tired
I can see how people look down
Im on the outside

Oh heres where the story ends
Ooh heres where the story ends

Its that little souvenir of a terrible year
Which makes my eyes feel sore
And who ever wouldve thought the books that you brought
Were all I loved you for
Oh the devil in me said, go down to the shed
I know where I belong
But the only thing I ever really wanted to say
Was wrong, was wrong, was wrong

Its that little souvenir of a colourful year
Which makes me smile inside
So I cynically, cynically say, the world is that way
Surprise, surprise, surprise, surprise, surprise

Heres where the story ends
Ooh heres where the story ends
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