| Trouble tracks me down
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| It’s been dragging me around
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| Since my feet first touched the ground
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| And I’m kicking like a kid
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| 'Cause I can’t get rid of it
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| And it’s never going nowhere now
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| I duck dodge to my left
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| I slide step to my right
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| But it nails me every time
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| And I’m finished pulling fits
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| Yeah, I’ve learned to live with it
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| Marching steady, straight and by my side
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| Trouble makes no scene
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| She sweeps in surgical and clean
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| Leaves me begging on my hands and knees
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| And she’s always on the clock
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| But she doesn’t own a watch
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| 'Cause she wrecks me straight into my sleep
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| Well drift into a dream
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| And I’m sailing on some sea
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| Shooting whiskey with my Irish bride
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| Till Amy Goodman wakes me up
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| I’m alone in Brooklyn, broke as fuck
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| With a splitting headache
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| And sore bloodshot eyes
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| And I’ve known trouble all my life
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| And I’m sick of asking why
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| It’s like screaming at a set of dice
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| They’re gonna roll the way they roll
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| And then you’re never gonna know
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| So getting crazy’s just a waste of time
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| I’ve just seen trouble track me down
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| It keeps pulling me around
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| Till I’m deep inside the ground
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| And then I’ll smile in my sleep
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| 'Cause in that box I’m finally free
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| And ain’t no trouble gonna find me now
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| Ain’t no trouble gonna find me now
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| Ain’t no trouble gonna find me now |