| And we drink and get older
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| And some of us even try to get sober
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| Now here’s to the assholes and the last calls
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| We’re city kids
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| You get what you ask for
|
| And acquaintances turn to friends
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| I hope those friends they remember me
|
| Hold the night for ransom as we kidnap the memories
|
| Not sure there is a way to express what you meant to me
|
| Sit around a table and use those years as the centerpiece
|
| Sounds of the city on Capitol Hill
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| Where I question if what I’m seeing here is real
|
| Cowboy boots doing lines at the bar
|
| Where the time goes slow when you’re drinking PBR
|
| Hold on to what you were, forget what you’re not
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| The streets were ours that summer, at least those two blocks
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| Reminisce on those days, I guess that’s OK, you wonder why
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| Some grow up, move on, close the chapter, live separate lives
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| The twenty-something confusion before the suit and tie
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| Strangers become mistakes but those mistakes made you feel alive
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| Hindsight is vibrant, reality: rarely lit
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| Memory’s a collage pasted with glue that barely sticks
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| Good Lord, they broke all my shields
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| Locked bathroom doors, graffiti, and high heels
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| Until you felt that altitude you don’t know how high feels
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| Party mountain, some don’t ever come down from around here
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| To be young again, I guess it’s relative
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| The camel lights, the whiskey rye, sink into the skin
|
| I fantasize about a second wind
|
| Grow a moustache, pick up another bad habit and let the games begin
|
| Sounds of the city on Capitol Hill
|
| Where I question if what I’m seeing here is real
|
| Cowboy boots doing lines at the bar
|
| Where the time goes slow when you’re drinking PBR
|
| So here’s to the nights, dancing with the band
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| Strangers into girlfriends from a one night stand
|
| Brought a little liquor and turn up the Johnny Cash
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| You could bring a receipt to Heaven but you cannot take it back
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| And this is life, this is real, even when it feels like it isn’t
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| I’d be a goddamn liar to say at times I didn’t miss it
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| So deuces, I turn my back as I walk into the distance
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| Dip my feet in every once in a while, just to say I visit
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| Come and hold onto these nights
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| Trying to find our way home by the street light
|
| Over time we figure out this is me, right
|
| Learn a lot about your friends right around two A.M.
|
| And acquaintances turn to friends
|
| I hope those friends they remember me
|
| Hold the night for ransom as we kidnap the memories
|
| Not sure there is a way to express what you meant to me
|
| Sit around a table and use those years as the centerpiece
|
| Sounds of the city on Capitol Hill
|
| Where I question if what I’m seeing here is real
|
| Cowboy boots doing lines at the bar
|
| Where the time goes slow when you’re drinking PBR |