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She said, "Aren't you glad that we're never at war?" |
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Picture me kicking in your door like the police |
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And then looking through your drawers |
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As soon as you leave, like a thief |
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And then picture me breaking your back |
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With the emotional support that I'll need |
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And then picture me as I laugh |
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With my friend at the back, she'd been deceived |
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And she said, "No, you don't have to worry about me, |
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The war is only on TV and the reporters that you see will be there next week." |
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But you don't have to worry yet |
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'Cause they'll just take it out of your cheque |
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Watch the news if you forget who you set free |
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I said, "I never had this before and the weather is so gorgeous that I agree." |
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I'm so happy that I'm almost bored |
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And if I didn't have to work, I'd go back to sleep |
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But then sometimes when I drink, I think of who I used to be |
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'Bout how I'd kill you in your sleep for hurting me |
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And the war was all I had, I guess that and feeling bad |
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And now I can't remember the words I used to sing |
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And I can't remember their names or their faces and other things |
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And my purple heart hangs from my chest |
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My heart and my neck, the only things that I protect |
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Now they're covered in cement with tar lines |
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Like band-aids on the streets, from the cars and from the heat |
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Why didn't they just fill them right the first time? |
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And such good food and some French wine |
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My beautiful baby by my side |
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With no money to my name |
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A perfect life |