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There's a hole in the roof |
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And the rain's coming down |
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The roads are flooded |
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There's no way back to town |
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And the ship we came in on |
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Has just run aground |
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You know fate has a funny way of coming around |
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The memories we've buried |
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Have just taken seed |
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When springtime comes |
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They'll turn into weeds |
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And they'll creep through your window to smother your dreams |
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You know fate has a funny way of coming around |
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Oh, they'll carve our names like scripture to the soles of our feet |
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Each footprint that they take it will tell of our beat |
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Til the night of the following rain |
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Til the low tide comes to swallow pain |
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This bottle of bourbon, now dry as a bone, it drank us all up then it left us alone |
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Well we've since switched to skull pot |
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But we can't choke it down |
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You know fate has a funny way of coming around |