| The days go by
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| Even when you don’t want them to
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| The sun outside
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| Lets you know there’s living to do
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| And I get scared sometimes
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| That I’ll work my whole life and die
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| Before I find the purpose
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| To my being alive
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| But I’ve got a bible, baby
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| With the shape of a whiskey bottle cut out
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| A whole lot of living left in me
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| One foot in heaven and a dirty mouth
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| I know time changes a lot of things
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| But I’m afraid I can’t be fixed
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| But I would give up everything
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| Not to feel like this
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| From 231
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| All the way down 96
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| The telephone poles
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| Lift out of the earth like a crucifix
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| And when the sun goes down
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| The only thing you can hear
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| Is that restless feeling
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| Drift across the northern hemisphere
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| But I’ve got a bible, baby
|
| And a picture of Jesus on my wall
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| Neither one can save me
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| Once my faith in everything’s gone
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| I want to lay under the blue
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| Blue sky and feel
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| Like I’m whole again
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| As it was in the beginning
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| You can damn sure bet
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| It will be in the end
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| There’s no sense in running
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| From the things that cut you down
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| Someday you’ll look over your shoulder |
| To find they’re still around |