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LYRICS

作詞:SIMON PAUL

作曲:SIMON PAUL

Why don't we stop fooling
ourselves?
The game is over
Over
Over
No good times, no bad times
There's no times at all
Just The New York Times
Sitting on the windowsill near
the flowers
We might as well be apart
It hardly matters
We sleep separately
And drop a smile passing in the
hall
But there's no laughs left

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