| You walked into the bathroom
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| To wash your troubles away
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| You always seem to go in there
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| About 20 times a day
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| I dropped you off at your therapist
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| Where you walked across the street
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| To the neon lights with the purple door
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| Where you passed out on your feet
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| Don’t think I don’t see it all
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| The beautiful high and the sobering fall begin
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| It’s a kick ass day, wish you were here
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| Send a postcard telling me when you’re here again
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| 'Cuz I can’t get through to you
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| There’s a lot I could say, there’s a lot I could do
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| If I had it my way, but I don’t and you do
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| Makes me throw up to say that I cared at all
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| I gave a lot and now I’m shot
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| And shit like that’s like sour lemonade, sour lemonade
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| I tried to call your favorite bar
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| But I got a drunk Australian
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| He talked a million miles an hour
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| But I can’t tell what he’s saying
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| Something about a song by KISS
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| And how they watched you piss yourself away
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| As the glass goes crashing to the floor
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| From the phone booth, I hear more delay
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| 'Cuz I can’t get through to you
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| There’s a lot I could say, there’s a lot I could do
|
| If I had it my way, but I don’t and you do
|
| Makes me throw up to say that I cared at all
|
| I gave a lot and now I’m shot
|
| And shit like that’s like sour lemonade, sour lemonade
|
| There’s a lot I could say, there’s a lot I could do
|
| If I had it my way, but I don’t and you do
|
| Makes me throw up to say that I cared at all
|
| I gave a lot and now I’m shot
|
| And shit like that’s like sour lemonade, sour lemonade
|
| Sour lemonade, sour lemonade |