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Cowboys on the road tonight |
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Crying in their sleep |
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If I was a hungry man with a gun in my hand |
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And some promises to keep |
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Who wanted to change the world |
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What's as easy as murder |
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It's all headlights and vapour trails |
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And Circle K killers |
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And I know I could look at anyone but you now |
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I could fall under the eyes of anyone |
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But you now, now, now, now |
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So come on, come on, come on |
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Oh, come on through now |
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Come on, come on, come on |
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Oh, come on through now |
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This is a list of what I should have been |
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But I'm not |
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This is a list of the things that I should have seen |
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But I'm not seeing |
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The look in your eyes |
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As his fingertips slid down your neck |
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And made you shiver |
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I'm just turning away from where I should have been |
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Because I am not anything |
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Oh, anything, oh |
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The President's in bed tonight |
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But he can't get to sleep |
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'Cause all the cowboys on the radio are killers |
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And I believe she loves you |
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'Cause you never make her feel like anything |
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She said, 'I wouldn't feel a thing |
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But I can feel, I can feel...' |
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And I know I could look at anyone but you now |
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I could fall under the arms of anyone |
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But you now, now, now, now |
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So come on, come on, come on |
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Oh, come on through now |
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Come on, come on, come on |
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Oh, come on through now |
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This is a list of what I should have been |
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But I'm not |
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This is a list of the things that I should have seen |
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But I am not seeing |
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The look in your eyes |
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As his fingers are unzipping your dress |
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And it makes you shiver |
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I'm just turning away from what I shouldn't see |
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Because I am not anything |
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Oh, anything, no |
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Everyone's in bed tonight |
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But nobody can sleep |
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'Cause all the satellites are watching through our windows |
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She says she doesn't love me, like, like she's acting |
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But it's as if she isn't talking |
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'Cause Mr. Lincoln's head is bleeding |
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On the front row while she's speaking |
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I said, 'come on all you cowboys |
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All you blue-eyed baby boys |
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Oh come on all you dashing gentlemen of summer |
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I'll wait for you where Saturday's a memory |
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And Sunday comes to gather me |
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Into the arms of God who welcome me |
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Because I believe, oh I believe |
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And I know I could look at anyone but you now |
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I could fall under the eyes of anyone |
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But you now, now, now, now |
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So come on, come on, come on |
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Oh, come on through now |
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Come on, come on, come on |
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Oh, come on through now |
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This is a list of what I should have been |
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But I'm not |
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This is a list of the things that I should have seen |
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But I'm not seeing you look at me |
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So please, won't you look at me |
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'Cause I'm not seeing you look at me |
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Oh, oh, I, I will make you look at me |
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Or I am not anything |
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Oh, anything |
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No no no no |