| As I sit on the edge of this never made bed
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| old guitar in my lap a new tune in my head
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| There she stands in the doorway just brushing her hair
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| it’s my beautiful muse in her underwear
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| And if I was thinking I’d be thinking thank god wherever you are
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| for the muse and this old guitar
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| it’s times like these so sweet and so true
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| thinking is the last thing that you wanna do
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| As I sit on the edge of this dirty old bar
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| trying to work some things out without getting too far
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| And to drown out the voices that are keeping me down
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| there’s a muse all alone on the other side of town
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| And if I was thinking I’d be thinking thank god wherever you are
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| for all the whiskey in this dirty old bar
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| Times like these are so sad but so true
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| Thinking’s the last thing that you wanna do
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| Yeah, thinking’s the last thing that you wanna do
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| As I sit on the bed of this hospital room
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| Just shedding a tear for the bride and groom
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| and the tiniest voice starts to bellow and cry
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| it’s my finest work yet if today I should die
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| And if I was thinking I’d be thinking thank god
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| for the muse and the miracle right here in my arms
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| Times like these are so sweet and so true
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| thinking’s the last thing that you wanna do
|
| Yeah, thinking’s the last thing that you wanna do
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| Yeah, thinking’s the last thing that you wanna do |