| Well, I heard they strung you out on a midnight line
|
| I heard about it when you cracked
|
| And I see you found yourself a new set of lies
|
| Where do you go to hear a thing like that?
|
| And you found that farewell note
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| Your footsteps dancin' toward the door
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| In the fine print of the words she wrote
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| You can’t find a pattern anymore
|
| And now daylight burns your eyes
|
| And your girl’s long gone, forever and ever
|
| You wonder what it’s like?
|
| Well it’s hell 'round here, but it’s my kind of weather
|
| And oh! |
| To be free!
|
| It gets old, like anything, anything
|
| And boy! |
| You don’t see
|
| What hurts worse than falling out
|
| Is falling back in when she leaves
|
| Leaves
|
| So jump a black hole
|
| Take a joyride
|
| Scratch the 8-ball
|
| Wet it all night
|
| But don’t shut the door before
|
| Well, I cut your corner, catchin' you right on time
|
| You know I like to hang around
|
| But the party turns into a firin' line
|
| Every time I show my face in town
|
| Now I can’t give it all, you know
|
| Feel free to show me to the door
|
| I offered you my bad advice
|
| I offered, but you wanted more
|
| Now the limelight burns your eyes
|
| And the girl you loved’s gone forever and ever
|
| You wonder what it’s like?
|
| Well it’s hell 'round here, man, it don’t get much better
|
| But oh! |
| To be free!
|
| It gets old, like anything, anything
|
| Boy! |
| You don’t see
|
| What hurts worse than falling out
|
| Is falling back in when she leaves
|
| Leaves
|
| Leaves
|
| So jump a black hole
|
| Take a joyride
|
| Scratch the 8-ball
|
| Wet it all night
|
| But don’t shut the door before |