The world is locked outside my headAnd I refuse to
Come on girl I know you're therePick up that phone,
Welcome to the Drinker's Hour,two thirty-five a.m.Welcome to the cold
The days are getting roughThere seems to be no light
Every time that I look into your eyesI just can't
We are lovers of improvements, we admire progressive movementsWe're the
Well it seems so earlyLike dewdrops on my mindI've just
Imagine the world with no bordersNo boundaries to fight aboutImagine
Every now and then there stands a man beside meHe's
Emily sits on the seventh stairJust outside the lions' lairHolding
I look at the world and its patronsClicking along with
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