| Planes on the downtown skyline is a sight to see for some
|
| It ought to make a few reputations in the cult of number one
|
| While these seconds turn these minutes into hours of the day
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| All these doubles drive the dollars and the light of day away
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| Suffering jukebox such a sad machine
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| Your filled up with what other people need
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| And they never seem to turn you up loud
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| There are a lot of chatterboxes in this crowd
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| Suffering jukebox in a happy town
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| You’re over in the corner breaking down
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| They always seem to keep you way down low
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| The people in this town don’t want to know
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| Well I guess all that mad misery must make it seem to true to you
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| But money lights your world up, you’re trapped what can you do?
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| You got Tennessee tendencies and chemical dependancies
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| You make the same old jokes and malaprops on cue
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| Suffering jukebox such a sad machine
|
| Your filled up with what other people need
|
| Hardship, damnation and guilt
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| Make you wonder why you were even built
|
| Suffering jukebox in a happy town
|
| You’re over in the corner breaking down
|
| They always seem to keep you way down low
|
| The people in this town don’t want to know |