| Their sidewalks, songs and their knuckles are cracked
|
| And they ring like an old broken bell
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| They kick and they scream, they call it brotherly love
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| And it seems like a living hell
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| But the pavement connects, and the knuckles protect
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| And the cracked songs help heal the wounds
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| And they huddle together fight off the cold
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| They kick scream and sing out of tune
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| And wait for the flowers to bloom
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| It’s a helluva home
|
| It’s a helluva home
|
| Where else would I go
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| It’s all I know
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| It’s a hell
|
| It’s a helluva home
|
| Out here it’s all earthquakes, plastic, and the hills are on fire
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| Styrofoam, tan moms and drought
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| I ain’t seen a black girl in 28 days
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| And I’m starting to have my doubts
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| No rain’s got me withering but at least I’m not shivering
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| I can breathe here without all the gloom
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| We got our feet in the sand, endless possible land
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| Bathing in the sun and the moon
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| With wildflowers always in bloom
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| It’s a helluva home
|
| It’s a helluva home
|
| Where else would I go
|
| It’s all I know
|
| It’s a hell
|
| It’s a helluva home
|
| It’s a helluva home
|
| Where else would I go
|
| It’s all I know
|
| It’s a hell
|
| It’s a helluva home
|
| I got used to waving goodbye
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| I got tired of grinding in a giant city waiting to die
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| It’s a helluva home
|
| It’s a helluva home
|
| Where else would I go
|
| It’s all I know
|
| It’s a hell
|
| It’s a helluva home
|
| It’s a helluva home
|
| Where else would I go
|
| It’s all I know
|
| It’s a hell
|
| It’s a helluva home
|
| Helluva home
|
| You go east you go west you get tarnish and sheen
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| The trick is to live with the two
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| For now I’ll sing here with less in a world in between
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| As long as I’m singing with you
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| I want to sing it with you |