| I don’t remember when the liquor started kicking in
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| It’s been a while since I been off the stuff
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| I really hate to say I’m turning into a cliché
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| I’m hoping that nobody brings it up
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| I left my car behind the bar again last Sunday night
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| I did the Monday morning drive of shame
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| And last night’s clothes they smell like smoke
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| But I don’t know how I got home
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| But I do know my head’ll hurt all day
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| But I still go and stay too late
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| And be the girl bartenders hate
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| The one that doesn’t need another one
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| When the Romeos and Juliets
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| Have bummed all of my cigarettes
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| The last kiss in the parking lot is done
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| I’ll be sitting here alone
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| When the ugly lights come on
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| Well everybody’s got a spark
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| It’s easy hiding in the dark
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| In a crowded room with pockets full of rings
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| I sit and watch the whiskey pour
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| The married men, the exit door
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| The beginning of another matchbook fling
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| And I don’t try to justify
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| The reason I’m not living right
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| I wear my sadness like a souvenir
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| I drink too much to fall apart that’s how I fight this broken heart
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| So what, if I feel comfortable in here
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| 'Cause I still go and stay too late
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| And be the girl bartenders hate
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| The one that doesn’t need another one
|
| When the Romeos and Juliets
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| Have bummed all of my cigarettes
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| The last kiss in the parking lot is done
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| I’ll be sitting here alone
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| When the ugly lights come on
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| Hey |