| There’s a pen for the page, there’s a cage for the bird
|
| And the craziest thing that I’ve ever heard
|
| Was whispered so soft there was barely a word
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| Can’t nobody hold her to nothing
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| There’s a car in the air and it’s paid for I’m sure
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| The pain in the air is just won’t run anymore
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| I waited and waited but there weren’t any cure
|
| On the day it was made it was busted
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| There’s a bum on the beach, there’s a world of sand
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| There’s a girl out there somewhere just meeting a man
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| I dream of it so often I built me a tan
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| When I’m cold and I’m deep in the winter
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| With the pen coast and the black and greys
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| As summertime rolls and it’s coming our way
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| The thing I need to dream, has been raining in May
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| It’s dug in and deep as a splinter
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| There’s cash for the clerk who smokes for the maid
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| I spoke to the priest, there’s men to be saved
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| But I got her number when I got her name
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| Three days from now I will call her
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| Cause I am an oak and smoking here
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| A joke that I just can’t leaning on it
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| That I should have spoke when I kept it all in
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| Now I can’t tell nobody nothing
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| The wishes got dusty and dirty and dry
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| Got ridden too hard for too many nights
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| But some kind of restlessness keeps them alive
|
| Just a little more reasoned and roughened
|
| With the pen coast and the black and greys
|
| As summertime rolls and it’s coming our way
|
| The thing I need to dream, has been raining in May
|
| It’s dug in and deep as a splinter
|
| As summertime rolls and it’s coming our way
|
| It’s dug in and deep as a splinter
|
| There’s a pen for the page, there’s a cage for the bird
|
| And the craziest thing that I’ve ever heard
|
| Was whispered so soft there was barely a word
|
| Can’t nobody hold her to nothing |