| It’s not that I never did tell you
|
| It’s more that you should have just known
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| Once you break it you bought it
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| And once you’ve bought it it’s breakable
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| Ya once you’ve bought it it’s breakable
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| In town at the bar there’s a calendar
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| From 1933
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| It’s been hanging there for decades
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| Since sobriety lost to reality
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| Since sobriety lost to reality
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| At night’s I’d sit in the corner
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| Think up stories and all of them crimes
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| Of pretty girls kidnapped by radicals
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| Who fell in love with them after a time
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| It’s not that I never did tell you
|
| It’s more that you should have just known
|
| Once you break it you bought it
|
| And once you’ve bought it it’s breakable
|
| Ya once you’ve bought it it’s breakable
|
| On the edge of town where the streetlights ground
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| And the highway melts into the dark
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| Built me a shack with a porch out the back
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| Where I sit and shoot bottles like question marks
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| Sometimes you wonder at yourself
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| And how it is you’re still alive
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| You’ve done all them things you never thought
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| Like kissing ass and calling it compromise
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| In town at the bar there’s an exit
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| That leads back to something before
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| Pretty girls kidnapped by radicals
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| That took from them all that they stood for
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| It’s not that I never did tell you
|
| It’s just that you should have just known
|
| Once you break it you bought it
|
| And once you’ve bought it it’s breakable
|
| Ya once you’ve bought it it’s breakable
|
| Ah once you’ve bought it it’s breakable
|
| Oh, once you’ve bought it it’s breakable |