| Paint’s chippin' off of my wife’s wooden leg
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| She brought me a paintbrush and she pulled down the shades
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| She said, «would you take a good look honey
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| Into my eyes, I think it’s kind of funny
|
| My head is full of other people’s money
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| Make time to sail
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| I’ll make a million and send you somethin' in the mail»
|
| Ooh, it’s a farewell all the same
|
| Ooh, as the faucet fills the drain, yeah, yeah, yeah
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| Paint’s chippin' off of my wife’s station wagon
|
| Sittin' in the front yard like an old decrepit cow
|
| It howls at the moon in Summer
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| It makes its way on a pilgrimage
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| Through the streets, back-ways and alleys, to where the river flows
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| Yeah, take your car and leave it out there where the go
|
| Ooh, it’s a farewell all the same
|
| Ooh, as the faucet fills the drain, yeah, yeah, yeah
|
| The country is a coiled wire
|
| Hammered into the back of the fire
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| How you handle all of your desires
|
| It will plainly show
|
| «If you take a good look honey
|
| Into my eyes, I think it’s kind of funny
|
| My head is full of other people’s money
|
| Make time to sail
|
| I’ll make a million and send you somethin' in the mail»
|
| Ooh, it’s a farewell all the same
|
| Ooh, as the fire falls down like rain, yeah, yeah, yeah |