| Sitting in the backseat
|
| going, going with that wind
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| Save, save me from that old stress
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| My shoes are wet with rain
|
| stomping in every puddle
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| will take the dirt from my old dress
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| Laying on the floor now
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| painting with every color
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| pearls will fall far from the sky
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| Can I say I’m insane now?
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| bird of a different feather
|
| but treat me like any other goodbye
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| Bells will ring
|
| and I’ll follow you to the grave
|
| So listen, babe
|
| And I’ll tell you to be brave
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| We’ve got those feet
|
| I’ll walk, walk for miles
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| you can’t say I barely tried for gold
|
| I’m the dusty corners
|
| in the basement of your home
|
| sweep me up and search for what you told
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| I’m the empty glass
|
| on your barren little bed stand
|
| drink from me those final drops of bourbon
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| I’m the one who loves
|
| all the better things about you
|
| but thankfully to you I’m just a burden
|
| Bells will ring
|
| and I’ll follow you to the grave
|
| So listen, babe
|
| And I’ll tell you to be brave
|
| Tell me a story
|
| just listen mighty closely
|
| I’m not who you think I am
|
| I’ll tell you a story
|
| just listen mighty closely
|
| I’m not who you think I am
|
| Bells will ring
|
| and I’ll follow you to the grave
|
| So listen, babe
|
| and I’ll tell you to be brave |