| I want to go back to the way it used to be
|
| Before the bad guys came out on the trees
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| And pulled the sky down on top of the dark
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| Brown sticky soft pack earth of my heart
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| I only want to be that hero saving you from the damn
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| Car bombings in Afghanistan
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| I don’t want to be damned
|
| I want to be ten
|
| I want to be a real man
|
| I want to take you out on the town
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| And give you some good times to throw around
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| In your head when you’re old and you’ve got no friends
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| I’ll make the good times never end
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| And there will be hand granades
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| Keep the pins in their pockets
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| Open you up
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| Fill you up with rockets
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| So you can go anywhere you like
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| Any ol' time
|
| The way the rings around the jersey shore
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| Can fill you up with blue forever more
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| I’ll lift you up without letting you down
|
| Keep all your dreams from turning brown
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| And all the birds will keep lifting you up and then
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| into the air
|
| And into the thin space between the here and now
|
| Oh I’ll
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| I Can’t stop hitting myself over the head
|
| I do my best to keep up with the dead
|
| Don’t know why everybody’s in my high
|
| Oh I Feel like flying
|
| Trying to Put the bats back into the dark
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| Black of my heart
|
| I made out a jam
|
| It’s all good until someone catches a feelin'
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| And I’m feeling again. |