| Wake up to a blue moon in the sky
|
| A cool china blue
|
| Hear the thunder of life driving by
|
| Guess it’s finally on the loose
|
| And I smell the soot sweat
|
| On the sick-a-more trees
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| As the branches collide
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| With every thought I think
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| Now the neighborhood cat is calling
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| He can’t sleep
|
| Says the oxygen in the needle and pin
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| Has sprung a leak
|
| Well he really took his chance
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| Crossing his heart, hoping to die
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| He was young and he was happy
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| At the time, at the time
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| It seems to be like cinema
|
| Silver turns to it’s old tricks
|
| Magic loses all it’s magic
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| And you know what it really is
|
| The young men who used to
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| Use their knuckles, are gone
|
| But the tadpoles keep on multiplying
|
| Down in the swamp
|
| When the pearly gates do open
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| Dragging their legs out of spite
|
| Inside a woman sits to greet you
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| Welcome home to the night
|
| It’s the last motel
|
| With electric, she says
|
| Take a seat while the maid
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| Goes and cleans up your mess
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| Honey it could take an hour
|
| It could take all year
|
| It could take a century
|
| For your bad name to clear
|
| Wake up to a blue moon in the sky
|
| A cool china blue
|
| Hear the thunder of life driving by
|
| Guess it’s finally on the move |