| The men were drinking wine the women they’d split
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| To smoke French cigarettes
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| Do a couple rails sit around and bitch
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| Lie down and get sick
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| In the morning there’s a line of ashes in the sink
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| And bruises on her lips
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| The candles that were lit had melted on the cake
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| As if they were over it
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| Now she’s looking for the dog and a last hit
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| For water and a first aid kit
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| But it used to be enough to taste it
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| But that’s bfore we wer always wasted
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| In the spring of ‘09 baby got straight
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| Was getting only half baked
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| I get a little high what difference does it make
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| If you do or you don’t relate
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| It’s true there is a light that comes on when I play
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| Your sweetheart the runaway
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| But I’m never more than fine and you’re not nearly brave
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| Enough for the war I’ll make
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| I feel like a soldier in this pit
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| With you a lion that won’t quit
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| But when I was in love I would make it
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| But I only want you now when I’m wasted |