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Today i got my call from ketchum idaho |
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From hemingway and railways and whiskey wine and snow |
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But if you've never been in pain before then i guess you wouldn't know |
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I'm leaving in a while now for ketchum's icy sting |
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To walk and fish and write some songs, to stay up late and drink |
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And if i stay there long enough then i'll never feel a thing |
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And ketchum will be good to you if are strong and brave |
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She caters to the melancholy every single day |
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And babbles like a drunk old man unloading all his pain |
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I'll lock myself in ketchum's stare i'll make her my whole world |
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I'm gonna roam the ketchum streets to find a ketchum girl |
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And then i'll let her break my heart 'cos that's all that i do well |
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The valley will become my home her hills will keep me safe |
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I'll give her songs about my soul when there's no soul left to take |
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And i'll forget i ever lived in any other place |
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And it may seem inevitable i would love this fate |
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So beautiful and tragic and her heroes can't escape |
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And hemingway he shot himself one july evening late |
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But me i couldn't bring myself to bloody ketchum's name |
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Underneath her passion boils, never spoils surface tame |
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I'll slowly let her kill me with her lonely wind and rain |
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Her lonely tears and pain |