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Kids with broken hearts |
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And kids with broken bones |
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Kids with kidney stones |
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Giving birth to bloody stereos |
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Systems are all dripping wet |
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With gristle piss and swizzle sticks |
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Mary's got a bloody nose |
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From sniffing margarita mix |
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She licked her lower lip |
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And then she kissed that hallelujah chick |
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She came off kind of spicy |
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But she tasted like those pickle chips |
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We thought she was a dancer |
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But her steps they made the records skip |
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She came off kind of crunchy |
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But she went down like a chicken strip |
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Dripping wet with the special sauce |
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She had a confidence smile |
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And a nervous cough and we got off |
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She said it's good to see you back in a bar band, baby |
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I said it's great to see you're still in the bars |
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She said it's good to see you back in a bar band, baby |
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I said it's great to see you're still in the bars |
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Went down with a tallboy cans |
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And he woke up in a cargo van |
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Went down with the girls gone wild |
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And he woke up with the middle man |
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Went down with like fourteen bucks |
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And woke up with like sixteen grand |
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Went down with some crust punk junk |
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And woke up with a straight edge band |
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That's not how he planned it |
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Holly can't speak |
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She don't feel all that sweet |
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About the places |
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She sometimes has to go to get some sleep |
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She said I'm sorry, people think |
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I'm pretty |
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These clever kids are killing me |
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For one they ain't that clever |
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Number two, it really sucks |
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When you get stuck here with these trevors |
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This was supposed to be a party |
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Half the crowd is calling out for born to run |
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And the other half is calling out for born to lose |
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Baby, we were born to choose |
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We got the last call bar band really, really, really big decision blues |
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We were born to bruise, we were born to bruise |