| They found me in a florist, I was fried and out of focus
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| I was kicking it with chemists
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| The scratches on my back, they formed into a choir
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| And belted out a chorus
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| There were clicks and hisses and complicated kisses
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| Gideon’s got a pipe made from a Pringles can
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| Hey hey, providence
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| You gotta fall in love with whoever you can
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| The sheets stain but the sins wash away
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| Naked bodies in the Naraganset bay
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| Same kooks don’t shoot but they sure do sniff
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| Same kooks can’t fly because their wings are clipped
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| Same kooks can’t come but they sure do kiss
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| Making love to the girls with the wrapped up wrists
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| The lord takes away and the lord delivers
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| Washed it all off in the Mississippi river
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| We slept it off in the matinees
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| We rip it up like the razor blades
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| Now we just need something to celebrate
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| I wanna open some bottles up
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| I’m getting tired
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| Of all these Styrofoam coffee cups
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| She said it’s hard to feel holy when you can’t get clean
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| Now she’s bumping up against the washing machines
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| She said its hard to slow down when you’re picking up speed
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| It was those two same kooks from that one stupid photo shoot
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| It was those two same kooks from that one stupid photo shoot |