| Well, I hope you have fun splashin' in the slack tide
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| Unchaperoned over on the flip side
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| I write what I know about, made up or true
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| These songs aren’t for me, they’re for you
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| Memories like meteors fly through my head
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| The sand was pearl white, her bikini bright red
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| Retracing song lines gives me goose pimples, still
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| Like the trail boards upon Boo Boo Hill
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| Ooh, I know these stories were all lived before me
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| Still, I got a couple that I’ll keep to myself
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| I’m so damn lucky to have an all-star cast
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| Some lovely, some crazy, whoever thought this would last?
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| You know if I hadn’t lived it, I’d read it myself
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| Tellin' tall tales is still good for my health
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| Keep movin', and listenin', and amusin' myself
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| I’m not ready to put the book on the shelf
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| We all live some days vicariously
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| Blinded by all the light we cannot see
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| Handed down stories, cave walls to pens
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| Worth tellin' again and again
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| I call these modalities great power tubes
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| Placed in the hands of dreamers and fools
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| We’re descending from court jesters, quite sure of that
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| Could you kindly pass around the hat?
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| And I know these stories were sailed way before me
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| Toss a note in a bottle and hope that it helps
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| I’m so damn lucky to have an all-star crew
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| Some stoic, some crazy, some just passin' through
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| I guess music and lyrics are what I do best
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| I’m all done explaining or passin' some test
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| So pour me another, it’s good for my health
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| I’m not ready to put the book on the shelf
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| I’ll keep scribblin' on pages, not jumpin' off stages
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| Not ready to put the book on the shelf |