| The say these colors don’t run
|
| But they bleed in your face
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| like a bully spitting up a bad taste
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| after being knocked down a few pegs
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| you sigh as hard as a rock
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| it cuts your laugh lines absurd
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| i’m smiling with irish eyes bloodshot
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| christmas colored you don’t know what you’ve got
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| i’m falling apart at the seams
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| i’m mending this fifth of old age
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| minding these six strings
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| it don’t do me a damn
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| that you got a pretty face baby
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| it don’t seem to you a damned thing
|
| you got soothsayer nay-saying
|
| red herrings never spoke to us
|
| we don’t believe in fate or metaphor
|
| they got healing lips but their tongues are poison tipped
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| maria, the moment is right
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| to make them take a step back
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| maria on your quietest night
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| well make them rue the day they met you
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| im whistling with conviction like a young man in love
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| like a young man with his pride on sale
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| baby
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| join the club
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| well you’re just darling
|
| with your exclaimed travesties
|
| its a long road so keep your chin up
|
| you got soothsayer nay-saying
|
| red herrings never spoke to us
|
| we don’t believe in fate or metaphor
|
| they got healing lips but their tongues are poison tipped
|
| maria, the moment is right
|
| to make them take a step back
|
| maria on your quietest night
|
| well make them rue the day they met you
|
| i once held a stone also
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| staring at you naked
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| daring us to throw
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| maria you see the good in everything
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| now i know stones and bones fall
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| to where they came from
|
| maria, the moment is right
|
| to make them take a step back
|
| maria on your quietest night
|
| well make them rue the day they met you |