| I’m a broke down wreck with a ball and chain
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| Just sitting in the kitchen with my fortunate fame
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| There’s a monkey in a mask and he’s calling my name
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| There’s a midget on his back, he’s waiting for the midnight train
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| For the midnight train
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| 'Cause we’re pulling up stakes
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| Gotta load up the car
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| Get my right beat back
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| Do some air guitar
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| 'Cause I’m running from the air-jets
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| Inside of my head
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| On my bed with a leg full of lead
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| We’re trading gold for bread
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| Well the militarised mistress yeah you sink like a stone
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| Well I’m out here on the sidewalk where the buffalo roam
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| I can see it in your crystal dancing in like a storm
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| Blowing dusty through the kitchen while you’re standing in your high heels in
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| your hall
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| In your high heels in your hall
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| 'Cause we’re pulling up stakes
|
| Gotta load up the car
|
| Get my right beat back
|
| Do some air guitar
|
| 'Cause I’m running from the air-jets
|
| Inside of my head
|
| On my bed with a leg full of lead
|
| We’re trading gold for bread
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| Yeah there’s this choice you gotta make and it’ll cut to the coil
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| Like a preacher throwing dice instead of seeds on the soil
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| There’s a lady and her lover and they’re covered in oil
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| Slipping down through the cracks with the attack and a face full of foil
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| And a face full of foil
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| 'Cause we’re pulling up stakes
|
| Gotta load up the car
|
| Get my right beat back
|
| Do some air guitar
|
| 'Cause I’m running from the air-jets
|
| Inside of my head
|
| On my bed with a leg full of lead
|
| We’re trading gold for bread |