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Letter From An Occupant

The New Pornographers


I'm told the eventual downfall
is just a bill from the restaurant.
You told me I could order the moon, babe,
just as long as I shoot what I want.
What the last ten minutes have taught me:
bet the hand that your money's on.
Where the hell have the '70s brought me?
You trade me away long gone.

Chorus
For the love of a god, you say,
not a letter from an occupant.

The time that your enemy gives you,
good times are not the ones you want.
I cried five rivers on the way here,
which one will you skate away on?
The tune you'll be humming forever,
all the words are replaced and wrong,
with a shower of yeahs and whatevers,
you trade me away long gone.

Chorus
For the love of a god, you say,
not a letter from an occupant.

Where have all the sensations gone?
Wher have all the sensations gone?

It's the song, the song, the song that's shaking me.

Compositor: Carl Alan Newman
ECAD: Obra #2590637

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