| She said her mom lives on the hampton shore
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| And her dad reenacts the civil war
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| But she doesn’t ever talk to him anymore
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| Curious, but smart enough no to ask
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| Right now let’s leave the ghosts in the past
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| Besides, you’ll keep those skeletons until you’re ash
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| We’ll keep fighting and keep trying
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| We’ll have our poor excuse by the morning
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| I know you’re fine here dressed to the nines, dear
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| But you’ll be back in your sober shell by the weekend
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| So never go back home
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| We could drive into the georgia heat
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| And drown in sweaty drinks for a couple of weeks
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| And talk through our obligations we’ll never keep
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| Black powder and humidity keep us awake
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| Noisy trees keep us from thinking straight
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| But we’re not trying to think straight anyway
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| We’ll keep fighting and keep trying
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| We’ll have our poor excuse by the morning
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| I know you’re fine here dressed to the nines, dear
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| But you’ll be back in your sober shell by the weekend
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| So never go back home
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| Stay close to your fears
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| It keeps us real, it keeps us clear
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| But then we’ll dry out and with hats in our hands
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| We’ll head back north smiling when we can |