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The Ivy Gate

de Big Big Train

Last stand, flyblown
When did we grow old
When did we learn that
In every goodbye there
Is a scene of death

None of the old rules apply
We're into the not knowing

Red curved roof
Now shedding its tiles
It's over

Footnote, endpiece
How did we get here
When did we learn that
In every goodbye there
Is a scene of death

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