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Born to Run

It's a quiet sadness

Of the people of the north

Echoes silently

Around cold grey placesEcstasies undared, tremble upon them

Edge of the tightly, respectably unfulfilled

Who drink to excess

In order to forget what never happenedBrave faces

Well dressed, ordered minds on suicide's edge

Reflected in the rain skimmed

Slate grey, battleship grey, hardship greyAnd further South and homeless

Here I am, globally altered and dishevelled

Oh, darlin', I've done it all

An antithesis of sorts

Songwriters

ROTHERY, MOLSEY, KELLY, TREWAVAS, HOGARTHPublished by

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