| I wish I’d met you earlier
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| Or maybe it’s better we met as adults
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| You taught me how to stop thinking so much
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| Thinking never got me anywhere
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| How I spun in circles before you came
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| The sober mind is a messy thing
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| Those who know I’m a solid candidate
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| Believe when I say
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| Drugs saved my life
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| Showed me an open hand
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| I owe more than I can say
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| To those select days
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| Eyes each moment anew
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| I know it’s not right to say
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| But if you’ve walked through those fields
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| Then you know what I mean
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| I’m sorry about those things I said
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| Before I met you myself
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| Those who hate you the most
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| Have never kissed you on the mouth
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| I’m the type
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| Who knows how to draw the line
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| So I don’t visit you that often
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| But I live with
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| The knowledge of your smile
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| Showed me an open hand
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| I owe more than I can say
|
| To those select days
|
| Eyes each moment anew
|
| I know it’s not right to say
|
| But if you’ve walked through those fields
|
| Then you know what I mean
|
| Where are you the rest of the time?
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| And why do eyes grow tired?
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| And I can’t forget the night
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| That you stabbed me in the back
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| So I live a reasonable life
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| But I never forget
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| Those summer nights
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| Showed me an open hand
|
| I owe more than I can say
|
| To those select days
|
| Eyes each moment anew
|
| I know it’s not right to say
|
| But if you’ve walked through those fields
|
| Then you know what I mean |