| You’re a fine desert flower, to these bloodshot eyes
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| The sunset’s got nothing on you
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| Each night finds me here, with a 12-pack of beer
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| It’s good, to wake-up near you
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| My head is pounding, and I need a smoke
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| But not as much as the touch of your skin
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| And I must admit, that I feel like s**t
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| And I’m late for work once again
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| And it’s always good to see you my friend
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| And to wake up hungover, together again
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| I’ll just lie here and watch you get dressed
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| As I block the sun from my face
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| Working ain’t fair, so I’ll drive you there
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| Cuz I ain’t going no place
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| I can’t find my shoes, and I can’t find dress
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| This is no way to start out the day
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| Where the hell are my keys
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| What’s this bruise on my knee?
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| What the hell did we do anyway last night
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| And it’s always good to see you my friend
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| And to wake up hungover, together again |