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There's only one light on in the house |
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And that's the light up in the hall |
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And it's shining on the back of my head |
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And I'm concentrating hard |
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On the cigarette, to the ashtray |
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From the ashtray back to my lips |
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So I lean up from my easy chair |
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I rub my three day beard |
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And give that thousand yard stare |
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As I recall all the time and the money we spent |
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Before I became irrelevant |
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So the straw dog threw rock salt |
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And the precious girl took a bow and walked |
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As I ran my finger over the screen door |
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Yeah, every kiss has reeked of betrayal |
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Since my heroine jumped the guardrail |
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And decided who she wanted to be once more |
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Now, every night I'm paralyzed |
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By the fear of rope burns and morning light |
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And the smell of wet cement |
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Since I became irrelevant |
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Now, memory's just a flash flood |
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A thick and black sticky mud |
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And heartache it's like a breaking bone |
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It was always twelve hours on a missionary line |
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You think I would've spared some time |
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But I didn't, I never went home |
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Now, it occurs to me like blinds undrawn |
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Or a bullet from a shotgun |
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That she knew long ago, oh, what it meant |
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To feel irrelevant |
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Now, I'm always smilin', cryin' |
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And hidin' my intent |
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Since I became irrelevant |