| It was 8:15
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| When I pulled into the 7 Eleven
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| I bought a 12 ounce coffee
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| And I threw down a 357
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| I guess I was thinking I would never be found
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| Next thing I knew I was spread-eagle
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| Down on the ground
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| I just fell into a manic depression
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| And I really want to spend it with you
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| I got pretty paper shoes
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| And I’m weaving you a basket for Christmas
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| Three hots and a cot
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| And a cellmate who keeps calling me missus
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| But I like to think I’m the king of the couch
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| And I like my shrink
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| 'Cause he always brings me smoke in a pouch
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| I just fell into a manic depression
|
| And I really want to spend it with you
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| We don’t have any inhibitions
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| We’re not consumed by ambition
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| We’ve got no mission control
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| They say Dr. Freud might call me an anal retentive
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| But my PO says I’m delinquent and I got no incentive
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| Rehab is a thing of the past
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| I step into the cab and say «Hey buddy, step on the gas»
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| Just fell into a manic depression
|
| And I really want to spend it with you
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| Okay ladies, it’s time for your medication. |