The disappointed All shuffle round in circles Their placards look the same With a picture and a name Of the ones who broke their hearts The disappointed All congregate at my house Their voices sob with grief That they want to be chief Of the tribe with broken hearts Once, I had no sympathy For those destroyed and thrown away by love Seems, your ring upon my finger Signifies that I've become the spokesman of... The disappointed Will bear me on their shoulders To a secret shadow land Where a sombre marching band Plays a tune for broken hearts And day grows darker now
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