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Brooklyn - Ron Pope
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Brooklyn Ron Pope

Brooklyn - Ron Pope
Oh, Brooklyn, I wanna come home
Oh, Brooklyn, I'm tired of the road

No love, no lust, all ashes to dust
Though we burn deep down, we bottle it up
Time to leave
And it's cold out front, the sun's coming up
And we're counting down, heat's on in the truck
And what's one more day? This distance remains hard for me

Oh, Brooklyn, I wanna come home
Oh, Brooklyn, I'm tired of the road

Morn' come, my heart, I can't stop the spinnin'
The wind, it sings, the words pull me in
But slow down, take care, it's darker out there than it seems

Oh, Brooklyn, I wanna come home
Oh, Brooklyn, I'm tired of the road
And the parts of me that call for you
At this moment, they are screaming out loud
Oh, Brooklyn, where are you now?

Wholly hold me, know what you don't see
Might mean more than the lies that you told me
Aye, wholly hold me, know what you don't see
It might mean more to me
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