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Texty: Franco Battiato. It's Five O' Clock.

It's five o' clock
and i walk
through the empty streets.
Thoughts fill my head
but then still
no one speaks to me
my mind takes me back
to the years
that have passed me by

It is so hard to believe
that it's me that i see
in the window pane
it is so hard to believe
that all this is the way
that it has to be

It's five o' clock
and i walk
through the empty streets.
The night is my friend
and in him i find sympathy
and so i go back to the years
that have past me by
It is so hard to believe
that it's me that i see
in the window pane
it is so hard to believe
that all this is the way
that it has to be

It's five o' clock
and i walk
through the empty streets.
the night is my friend
and in him i find sympathy.
He gives me day gives me hope
and a little dream too.
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