| Nothing seems like the smoke of a cigarette in the sun
|
| hinges kick 'em when it’s done
|
| the girl’s got pod-blue hair
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| You know there’s coke in the kitchen
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| And smoke in the air, but —
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| Oh, I can feel it in my bones
|
| Oh, I can feel it in my bones
|
| I think it’s time for it again
|
| in the dark, in the skinny
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| And the words kind of ugly
|
| In the way that looks pretty
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| Don’t know what’s on the front of their jeans
|
| Don’t know what to expect
|
| Keep one hand on the bottle and another on a cigarette
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| Oh, I can feel it in my bones
|
| Oh, I can feel it in my bones
|
| It’s just summer again
|
| Throwing away all the days and the nights with your friends
|
| It’s just summer again
|
| Doing the things we don’t need to do again
|
| Hanging up on the wall, you got some picture of a man
|
| No-one really knows who it is, but they see him time and time again
|
| And everybody needs a thing back home
|
| But when it’s with the night
|
| It’s any poet
|
| So don’t be so goddamn uptight
|
| Oh, I can feel it in my bones
|
| Oh, I can feel it in my bones
|
| It’s just summer again |
| Throwing away all the days and the nights with your friends
|
| It’s just summer again
|
| You think that it and you do it all again
|
| I said, It’s just summer again
|
| Giving away to the night
|
| It’s just summer again |