| Of the twenty-seven years I’ve been living
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| I can’t think of one where I claimed that I wanted to
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| I feel my heart, feel my heart ticking
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| Counting down the days til I’m dead
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| Then you can throw me overboard
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| Or shoot my ashes from a cannon
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| While The Boys play «Cowboy Song»
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| If I change my ways
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| I wouldn’t have to stay
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| But there’s a hole in my heart about the size of a bottle
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| And I like to fill it in every day
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| Well, I don’t put too much stock in heaven
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| If it’s really there, is it really where I wanna be?
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| My shitty friends ain’t getting in there
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| I can only do so much drinking alone
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| Before I phone up Brodie and Jordan and Chris
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| So maybe we can tie one on
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| If I change my ways
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| I wouldn’t have to stay
|
| But there’s a hole in my heart about the size of a bottle
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| And I like to fill it in every day
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| If I change my ways
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| I wouldn’t have to stay
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| If this is one long phase
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| We could go out in flames
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| But the nicotine stains on our hands
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| Will remind us of the times we had when we were drinking
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| The cold sweats, ache in my head
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| Will remind me of the times I had when I’m drinking
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| When there’s no more beer and we’re old
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| We’ll try to remind ourselves of our drinking days
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| I hope we never have to change
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| I hope we never have to change |