| I go down to the stream but the fish aren’t biting
|
| I would be the wall if you would be the writing
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| We’re still casting rods, there’s no use in deciding
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| It’s just another labour of love lost
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| You kick up the dust on that rusty dirt road
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| And swim as I swam in that watering hole
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| Stand back now lord, watch me doing dives
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| The ground you made there is so cold
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| You wanna call this an American Town
|
| There’s so many soldiers around
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| Shacked up in the most ancient of houses
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| All the shit rolls down
|
| If it ain’t this city it’s the house it’s the house
|
| If it ain’t this house it’s the town it’s the town
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| If it ain’t this town it’s the curse in the ground and the sound
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| You found a new man you think it’s amazing
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| You could call him slow but don’t call him lazy
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| For as long as you can you try to hide the crazy
|
| But it’s just another labour of love lost
|
| You wanna call this an American Town
|
| There’s so many soldiers around
|
| Shacked up in the most ancient of houses
|
| All the shit rolls down
|
| If it ain’t this city it’s the house it’s the house |
| If it ain’t this house it’s the town it’s the town
|
| If it ain’t this town it’s the curse in the ground and the sound |