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Two dollars, twenty-seven cents |
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January seventeenth, 2006 |
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Here in a diner with my friends |
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Talking about how the year went |
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A few years later |
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I walk in |
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Patty knew my drink |
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And she asks where the hell we've been |
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You used to come here every night |
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It's not the same without you kids |
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I cut my hand on a piece of glass |
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The time we found |
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Dave half dead in the parking lot |
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Spent the rest of the night in the |
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ER I cut my hand on a piece of glass |
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And I hope the scar lasts |
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So I don't forget that |
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There's been a table for me there |
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Through coffee eyes and blank stares |
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Our late night affairs |
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There's always been a table for me there |
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So you can try to forget or say it's the past |
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You know you'll always end up right back where you left |
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I ended up here late at night on |
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Thanksgiving |
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The fall that |
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Colleen left |
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This was the place to call home |
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When it felt like the world didn't want us |
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I watched |
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Mike slash |
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Mon's tires |
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We laughed about it later |
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I watched friendships dissolve |
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In the booth on the back wall |
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I cut my hand on a piece of glass |
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And I hope the scar lasts |
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There's always been a table for me there |
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Through coffee eyes and blank stares |
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Our late night affairs |
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There's always been a table for me there |
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So you can try to forget or say it's the past |
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You know you'll always end up right back where you left |
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There's always been a table for me there |
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There's always been a table for me there |
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There's always been a table for me there |
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Through all of the years |
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There's always been a table for me there |
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Through all of the years |
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There's always been a table for me there |
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Through all of the years |
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There's always been a table for me there |