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Lyrics

The Sunday Paper is a mess and I'm not gonna pick it up you are if I could
just get on with it. It don't matter my hair's a mess cause you're not gonna
fix it up for me, I am if I could just get on with it, I would take a breath
outside myself a stranger place I couldn't find and no one knows who I am

Letters to Cleo - Get on With It Lyrics

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