| All I ever asked of you is a copy of Garage Days
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| And to tell me the truth
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| Ain’t no one watching you exit Ventura Highway
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| It’s like I knew two of you man
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| The one before and after we shook hands
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| Taking the calls but in all forgetting what’s been said
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| And after dark in a cab in L.A.
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| Forget about the meter man these are salad days
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| Comes on radio, comes on what’s being said
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| No better than Sylvia
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| No better than Sylvia
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| (Where you are? Where you’ve been?)
|
| No better than Sylvia
|
| No better than Sylvia
|
| (Where you are? Where you’ve been?)
|
| No better than, oh, no no, no no
|
| (Where you are? Where you’ve been?)
|
| (Where you’ve gone? Oh, no)
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| Here’s a mark, he’s a mark on the page
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| Dishing out the wisdom of this reflexive age
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| Dotting the eyes with an eye for defining what you were
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| So when you do that line tonight
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| Remember that it came at a steep price
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| Keep telling yourself there’s more to you than her
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| But you’re no better than Sylvia
|
| No better than Sylvia
|
| (Where you’ve been?)
|
| No better than Sylvia
|
| No better than Sylvia
|
| (Where you are? Where you’ve been?)
|
| No better than, oh, no no, no no
|
| (Where you’ve gone? Where you’ve been?)
|
| (Where you’ve gone? Oh, no)
|
| No no no, no no no, no no no
|
| Oh, no no no, no no, oh |