| Loaded gun why don’t you come up here and see what I have done?
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| And I shall prove myself to thee
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| When I was young my mama said
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| «Son don’t you fall in love with the first one that you see»
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| But I was always one to run outside and nod my head
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| Without having heard a word that the woman said
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| Now I’m crying toward the termites in my floor
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| Now I’m sighing toward the moonlight in my drawer
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| 'Cause I found a bottle in my dresser yes sir it was cruel to me
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| Now there’s a woman in my yester I confess that the fool was me
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| She tried to leave and since I let her lesser I have proved to be
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| Now I’ve tattooed the words «forget her» where my feathers used to be
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| Because my wings were never of too much use to me
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| Loaded gun some ol' strange things you have done
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| Could you even prove yourself to me?
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| You’ve taken good ones and a couple bad ones with good names
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| There ain’t a lesson or a medicine that is free
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| Except for the water none but the water
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| So why not the water with her silver hair and cane?
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| Why not the whisky with his ancient and wry charm?
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| Why not the time that told the water when to drain?
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| Why not the needle shining in my neighbor’s arm?
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| Why not the way the whole world waltzes
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| When she’s dolled up blue and green?
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| Drunk in the astral ballroom how we spin so stupidly
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| Wish I could stay afloat in one place and never have to move my feet
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| To see that girl again just one day that way she would move to me
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| And she’d say «Sorry» and I’d say «Yea I’m sorry»
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| And she’d say «Yea how sorry?» |
| and I’d say «Hardly»
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| 'Cause these things are never of too much use to me
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| No these things are never of too much use to me
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| And though lesser I confess I have proved I believe
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| That lesser I would ever choose to be
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| Then to deal with all those things you do to me |