| It’s a Friday night and I think about you
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| Cause I don’t get high in the ways we used to
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| Why’d they make something that was so damn bad for me, so easy to do
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| I would call my mom but she doesn’t like you
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| Where are you now? |
| Coming up, coming down?
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| Memories are bullets, they get lodged in your head
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| I miss my old friends, the way we used to get fucked up
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| I miss my old friends, couple Skittles in a red cup
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| Guess you could say I’m better now, better than lying in a ditch but
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| I miss my old friends, does it ever get better?
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| 'Cause I miss the lot by the old apartment
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| Where we dodged those cops 'cause we knew couldn’t fight them
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| And you said that you’d always have back, no one says that any more
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| Maybe happiness is a moving target
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| Where are you now? |
| Coming up, coming down?
|
| Memories are bullets, they get lodged in your head
|
| I miss my old friends, the way we used to get fucked up
|
| I miss my old friends, couple Skittles in a red cup
|
| Guess you could say I’m better now, better than lying in a ditch but
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| I miss my old friends, does it ever get better?
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| Does it ever get better than
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| Waking up stoned on a Sunday? |
| Cleaning up good on a Monday?
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| Dragging my feet through the weekday
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| Life was a joke and we all knew the punchline
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| I wish I was faded, on something unregulated
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| Counting bills in the backseat of a silver Honda Civic by the underpass
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| I miss my old friends, the way we used to get fucked up
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| I miss my old friends…
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| Guess you could say I’m better now, better than lying in a ditch but
|
| I miss my old friends, does it ever get better?
|
| Guess you could say I’m better now, better than lying in a ditch but
|
| I miss my old friends, does it ever get better? |