| Palm trees in the burning sun
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| An American passport, portorican rum
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| And your just running from a war no one ever won
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| Your shoes are worn and your money, is gone
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| And you, don’t even know what’s going on
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| It’s hard to say how long you’ve been gone
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| And your, skin is peeling in the sun
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| And you’re never going back
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| Ooh you’re never going back
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| Well the, weed is brown and so are the girls
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| You always feel like you were lost in this world
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| Until you stept off that plane into the trade winds
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| Turn your back on a world of confusion
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| And you, feel like you’re running on borrowed time
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| Victim of a victimless crime
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| And they say, God helps those who help themselves
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| But he forgot about you, so you had to work it out for yourself
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| Alright
|
| And you, feel like you’re running on borrowed time
|
| Victim of a victimless crime
|
| And they say, God helps those who help themselves
|
| But he forgot about you, so you had to work it out for yourself |