| I went walking again, I’ll go out
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| And forget to tell any of my friends where I’m going
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| I’m just drunk on the side of the road in a ditch
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| When you find me — I wanna go home, but I’m sick
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| There’s more whiskey than blood in my veins
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| More tar than air in my lungs; |
| the strung out call I make
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| Burned down on the edge of the highway
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| «I'm sorry for asking, but please, come take me home»
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| I quit talking again but I know you’re still listening
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| To see if I sleep or I pierce my skin
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| Needles to the worn-out rags
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| The folds in my arms, the sickening black
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| And I haven’t been taking my meds
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| Lock all the cabinets and send me to bed
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| 'Cause I know you’re still worried I’m gonna get scared
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| 'Cause I’m alone again and I don’t like the things I see
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| And I haven’t been taking my meds
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| So lock all the cabinets, and send me to bed
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| 'Cause I know you’re still worried I’m gonna get scared again
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| And make my insides clean with your kitchen bleach
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| But I’ve kissed enough bathroom sinks
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| To make up for the lovers that never loved me
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| And I know my body is just dirty clothes
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| I’m tired of washing my hands
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| God, I wanna go home |