| Late nights in smokey ol' pool rooms, bars closin' down at three
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| And I’m right here in the middle of it all with the bad company
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| Well, maybe you don’t understand it, oh and we might never agree
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| But I’m past the point of making excuses
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| That’s what I am, I guess the truth is
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| We can’t all be angels, naw naw naw
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| I can’t say that I claim to be much of a saint after all
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| We can’t all be angels, naw naw naw
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| But I can tell you it ain’t so bad once you’ve learned how to fall
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| Flyin' down these ol' backroads is when I feel at my best
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| I’ve twisted all of the rules that’ll bend and broken all the rest
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| Now, I’d never try to change you, oh and I’d never do you no wrong
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| There’s a lot to be said for good clean livin'
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| But I have to sneak through the back door to heaven
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| We can’t all be angels, naw naw naw
|
| I can’t say that I claim to be much of a saint after all
|
| We can’t all be angels, naw naw naw
|
| But I can tell you it ain’t so bad once you’ve learned how to fall
|
| There’s a lot to be said for good clean livin'
|
| But I have to sneak through the back door to heaven
|
| We can’t all be angels, naw naw naw
|
| I can’t say that I claim to be much of a saint after all
|
| We can’t all be angels, naw naw naw
|
| But I can tell you it ain’t so bad once you’ve learned how to fall
|
| We can’t all be angels
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| We can’t all be angels
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| We can’t all be angels |