| She says «honey, why’re you crying,» I don’t know what to say
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| It’s been 70 and shining for the last 100 days
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| But the whole time I’ve been pining, the whole time I’ve been pained
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| 'Cause where I come from, honey, it hardly ever rains
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| It’s a Sunday in this jungle, a Monday 'cross the pond
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| And you can go to prison here for watering your lawn
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| And I have no explanation for why I feel so strange
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| But where I come from, honey, it hardly ever rains, yes
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| Where I come from, honey, it hardly ever rains
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| She scribbles on a napkin, I ask if I can see
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| It’s a cowboy in a red dress with a hat made out of leaves
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| He’s got wings on both his shoulders, I ask «what does this mean?»
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| She says, «Honey, it’s a picture of you» Well, I wish that felt like me
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| She’s a whisper in the silence, some pixels on my phone
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| Sayin «no man is an island, but everyone’s alone»
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| And maybe that’s what keeps me smiling
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| Maybe that’s what keeps me sane, 'cause
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| Where I come from, honey, it hardly ever rains
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| Yes, where I come from, honey, it hardly ever rains
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| She calls me from the airport just to say goodbye
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| And that’s when it starts pouring teardrops from my eyes
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| And I don’t have my hopes up but I don’t have no shame, 'cause
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| Where I come from, honey, it hardly ever rains
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| Then the lightning hits the concrete, the thunder is delayed
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| But I can hear a heartbeat from a hundred miles away
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| And I ain’t in no danger but I am still afraid
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| 'Cause where I come from, honey, it hardly ever rains
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| Yes, where I come from, honey, it hardly ever rains |