| I’m sittin' in this cafe
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| People talkin' so loud I can’t hear myself think
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| That’s not a bad thing
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| The coffee keeps on coming
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| The waiter who keeps smilin'
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| As I’m ridin' on a river of caffeine
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| An' that’s not a bad thing
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| I used to feel sorry for someone like me
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| In a corner booth pretendin' to read on a Friday night
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| I used to say: «It just ain’t right.»
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| How could anybody ever have any fun
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| Without somebody, without someone?
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| It never dawned on me
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| The possibility
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| That it’s not a bad thing
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| Those naggin' thoughts about you
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| How I left without you tonight:
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| You know, they’re few and far between
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| The waiter’s name is Joey, he told me
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| And that’s when I noticed he ain’t wearing any ring
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| An' that’s not a bad thing
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| And there is a tug on the edge of my heart
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| It’s you again sayin': «Don't you start lettin' go of me.»
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| But I ain’t listenin'
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| For once in my life, I’ll feel what I feel
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| Let it be, let it be real
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| Let it flow through me
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| An' wash me clean
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| That’s not a bad thing
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| As I’m drivin' home, I’m thinkin'
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| The worst might be over
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| Or maybe I’m a little bit naive
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| But the street lights seem brighter
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| As I walk to my front door
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| And I’m all alone when I turn the key
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| An' that’s not a bad thing
|
| I used to feel sorry for someone like me
|
| In a corner booth pretendin' to read on a Friday night
|
| I used to say: «It just ain’t right.»
|
| How could anybody ever have any fun
|
| Without somebody, without someone?
|
| It never dawned on me
|
| The possibility
|
| That it’s not a bad thing |