| Piecing it together in a highway town
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| Another store-front cemetery
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| Piecing it together in a highway town
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| Another store-front cemetery
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| What we know for sure is going down
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| Read the papers, the obituaries
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| Straight gin, a sin and rolling one
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| He’ll be in the obituaries
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| Throw the empty bottle and then run
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| Broke the window of that store-front cemetery
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| He’s dressing up, he’s going blind
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| He’s throwing up just to unwind
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| He’s dressing up, he’s going blind
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| He’s throwing up just to unwind
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| He’s dressing up, he’s going blind
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| He’s throwing up just to unwind
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| He’s dressing up, he’s going blind
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| He’s throwing up just to unwind
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| We wore that shirt, got called a fag
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| It didn’t hurt, no, not today
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| We wore that shirt, got called a fag
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| It didn’t hurt, no, not today
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| We wore that shirt, got called a fag
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| It didn’t hurt, no, not today
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| We wore that shirt, got called a fag
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| It didn’t hurt, no, not today
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| Another pointless song comes out of the pen
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| Read it back and cry
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| Fact is, we’ll die and never live again
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| We’ll just wonder why
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| Just wonder why |