| Well I tried, my girl, to put you in a song
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| A tune to weep for when you’re back
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| But every time the notes fall flat
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| Your face is made, your bags are packed
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| You were leaving before you were even gone
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| Spent lost years in the ring, we’re fighting love
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| Now everything that came before
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| My wicked plea and your dreams of war
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| They hit me quick, they made me sore
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| They taught me swinging hard is not enough
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| So meet up with your girls in New Orleans
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| Tie your corset,
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| paint your eyes and run wild through the Bourbon night
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| It always takes me by surprise
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| How effortless your good time seems to be
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| And I’ll send you on your way without a kiss
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| Well, I never gave you all that much to miss
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| But, hell, what a time
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| Now you’re free babe and so am I
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| So move on with the mirror in your mind
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| Watch your style and your step
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| And when there’s no reflection left
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| You’ll find you’ve become someone else
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| A stranger to yourself and all mankind
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| And she said this rum it just don’t burn me going down
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| Not like it did when we were young
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| It felt like fire across our tongues
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| Just like love, that all went numb
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| And the sweetest feelings found their own way out
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| So you send me on my way with cheap red wine
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| A bouquet of dead flowers and a thirst for twisted nights
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| But, fuck, what a time!
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| And you’re beautiful but you ain’t mine
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| You’re free babe, so very free babe
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| And so am I, yeah so am I, yeah so am I |