| Like a princess stuck in a factory
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| There’s nothin' here, no, for me
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| Like a warted toad on a highway road
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| The road seems never ending
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| That’s what appeals, whenever I feel
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| Restless, solitary, anxiety
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| Just give me that road, when the world turns cold
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| And a nice hot glass of whiskey
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| Well, it’s blank above me thoughts
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| And it’s blank below me words
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| Get me drunk, and then I’m yours
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| So give me two pints o' stout, two pints o' stout
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| One so I don’t think no more, and one to face what I’ve in store
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| Two pints o' stout, two pints o' stout
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| My dear, you have no money, so you can turn and walk right out now
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| Well, have you ever thought we might have sought
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| In all our years together
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| To part now while there’s still a smile
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| And face the lonely weather
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| Well, what’s the worth of this wretched Earth
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| But traveling to new places
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| Does the one you like seem a chord to strike
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| Does appealing describe his faces
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| No, I’m not content, not with myself, my body nor my mind
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| So give me two pints o' stout, two pints o' stout
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| One so I don’t think no more, and one to face what I’ve in store
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| Two pints o' stout, two pints o' stout
|
| Well, my dear, you have no money, so you can turn and walk right out
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| It’s freezing on O’Connell Street
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| And I’m talking to the hooker
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| Well, she might be a cop
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| But either way, I ain’t no better
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| So it’s rounds on me, one chance, you see
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| Because I have the money
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| When there’s no more booze then I’ll go home
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| And deal with my own thinking
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| Like a dream that tortures me each night
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| Is the peace I’ve known with you
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| So give me two pints o' stout, two pints o' stout
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| One so I don’t think no more, and one to face what I’ve in store
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| Two pints o' stout, two pints o' stout
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| Well, my dear, you have no money, so you can turn and walk right out |