| Barnyard creeks
|
| Your mother speaks
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| Will you head into town to get her some things?
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| That night the moon wasn’t sharp enough
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| To cut through the clouds
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| Another rainy night with you, locked inside
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| Another dream, another dim-lit light
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| Let’s not talk about things that we can break
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| There’s no goin' back once it’s made
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| No takin' back the things we say
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| My bumper’s fallin' off again
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| We’ll duct tape it in the hail
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| I’ll call you when I’m back on the 5
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| That night we talked about our doctors
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| And the valley of the sun
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| I laughed with ten strangers, and I could’ve called it love
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| The problem is, you see, I see a little bit of me in everyone I meet
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| Let’s not talk about things that we can break
|
| There’s no goin' back once it’s made
|
| No takin' back the things we say
|
| My mind, the critic
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| Has nothin', has nothin' to complain about
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| Has nothin', nothin' to say
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| Has nothin', nothin' to say
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| Has nothin', nothin' to say |