| He packed up his belongings
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| And he drove all the way to LA
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| People callin' on the mobile
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| Told him, you’re too good to stay
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| Smoky bars and shitty cars
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| For him t’was the only way
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| An old guitar and cargo shorts
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| Dreaming of a better day, yow
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| Sacred knowledge
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| Community college
|
| Don’t Drink the Water, Mike Bray
|
| Suitcase full of dreams, pocket full of schemes
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| But sometimes dreams just ain’t enough
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| So he looked deep inside into that heart full of pride
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| And found that makin' it sure is tough
|
| Electric blues lit his fuse
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| At Cozy’s with bros he did play
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| He knew he had what it took, and he could tell by their looks
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| That he blew those bros away, oh
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| Don’t go down the alley
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| That deep in the valley
|
| Don’t drink the water, Mike Bray
|
| To make it in the city
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| A man’s gotta live by his wits
|
| Dime store preachers, Ladies of the night
|
| Homeless guys takin' a shit
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| But you can’t smell the shit till you stepped in it
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| Brother let me tell you why
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| Make a wrong turn and you might get burned
|
| I know what it’s like to die
|
| The dreams you may be dreamin'
|
| Might not be what they’re seemin'
|
| Don’t drink the water, Mike Bray
|
| Don’t drink the water, Mike Bray
|
| Don’t drink the water, Mike Bray
|
| Don’t drink the water, Mike Bray
|
| Don’t drink the water, Mike Bray… |