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Palm trees in the burning sun |
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An American passport, portorican rum |
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And your just running from a war noone ever won |
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Your shoes are worn and your money, is gone |
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And you, dont even know what's going on |
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It's hard to say how long you've been gone |
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And your, skin is peeling in the sun |
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And you're never going back |
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Ooh you're never going back |
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Well the, weed is brown and so are the girls |
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You always feel like you were lost in this world |
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Until you stept off that plane into the trade winds |
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Turn your back on a world of confusion |
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And you, feel like you're running on borrowed time |
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Victim of a victimless crime |
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And they say, |
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God helps those who help themselves |
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But he forgot about you, so you had to work it out for yourself |
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Allright And you, feel like you're running on borrowed time |
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Victim of a victimless crime |
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And they say, |
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God helps those who help themselves |
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But he forgot about you, so you had to work it out for yourself |