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October 1, 2003 bet she could
Listen here, man. I finished the song I started last month. I wrote the last two verses, but I still don't have a name for it. I bet she could name it.
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It's six in the evening,
I sit by the phone,
Hoping it ain't gonna ring.
I peek through the blinds,
Just to prove that I'm home,
I cry so I don't try to sing.I wound her with kindness,
'Cuz killin's too quick.
I love her while running away.
Her kisses are sweet,
Yeah, they're making me sick,
Like a punk version of "Yesterday."
CHORUS:
I stole all her sins just to make them my own,
I pawned them,
She bought them right back.
And traded me in when a New Age was dawnin'.
He's custom, and I'm off the rack.
I try not to dream,
I'm afraid they'll come true.
The past's always just 'round the bend.
If wishin' were gettin',
I'd still end up blue,
Like lovin' your very best friend.
REPEAT CHORUS
I turn out the lights,
I can't see 'til it's dark.
I reach for her 'cuz she's not there.
She shoots for the moon,
But she's wide of the mark.
A full house gets beat by a pair.
REPEAT CHORUS
© 2003 by the beastmaster