Miles 'tween and what I'll see yet, but I still shudder.
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The engine's struggling.
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The snowy drifts of the home we left betray the warmth of the hearts it kept.
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These prairie mile kids, in droves, put knuckles into things they know.
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The people and pits in Sydney, that Corless knew we had to see.
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Don't give me those eyes.
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Yea, it's still damn good to be here.
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Now let's start with the making eyes and sharing scars.
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And planning more.
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Well you've heard the grumbling by now, I'm sure.
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Now how's about we get down to the hard part?
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We'll get the sex, the drugs,
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and the rock down flat in one trip flat and live out the rest in liner notes.
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Next stop at the free clinic 'cause grumpy Adam's grumbling again:
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I'll never see home again.
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Not that this whine and cheese ain't great and all,
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but I surely do detect some pretence to it all.
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We no-balls jabberjaws no not the history we offend
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when we put our feet up on the words of those who've burned.
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These days we say it's better to get your lumps than never have seen your blood at all.
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We know the cost.
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We're consumed by loss as hearts explode on the road.
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You want some Parecon, well we got that in spades.
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It's every rock show. Let's go employ that ethos elsewhere.
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These networks wane and die with every sneezing eye.
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My boys ain't here for nothing.
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Show me how your town does it.
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The underground is on fire.
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Who's gonna put it out?
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Tell my family and friends, whatever's left of them...
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Scream it from the rooftops, bellow till your heart stops.
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Sorry Boss, I'm afraid that I'm not coming in...
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Scream it from the rooftops, bellow till your heart stops.
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-----------------
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Anybody Remember John Enis, Chair Of The Board Of Tourism For Bad Sex, Ont.?
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Bombs Over Providence |