| Three streets off the grid, we were barely kids
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| But we were old enough to drink in Louisiana
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| We listened to ‘The King Must Die', ‘On the Willows' drank the wine
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| We could afford from the work study manna
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| Were were young but not that young
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| To be cutting our fingers and mixing our blood
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| Climbing the fence of the St. Louis cemetery
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| We caught on my heart’s desire
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| Big as the 1788 fire
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| Put on little quennie and bring me another whiskey
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| Elizabeth, the last I heard, you’re in Savannah
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| You got married after art school happily
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| I didn’t want to look you up, I’m pretty sure it’s just enough
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| That I remember you fondly
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| I didn’t have a car, but I did have a guitar
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| And I played to my advantage when you let me
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| I only stayed 2 years, but it still appears
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| After all of this time the memories still get me
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| I was young but not that young
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| To be tied in a knot that was coming undone
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| The spooks and haunts that vexed me veiled my eyes
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| It was always dark back then
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| It was always 3 am
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| I shake my head to think I made it out alive
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| Out at night under the lights
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| Some band is singing a memory
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| Everybody hits record to play it back over time
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| But when I look back on our dance
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| I only wanna hear that music once
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| And remember it forever in my mind |