What you're looking for is never what you find
|
Nothing ever seems to turn out right
|
|
Still running around still searching
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all these long indifferent streets
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For your lover or some cover
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to protect you from the heat
|
That you feel inside
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inflamed since you learned to cry
|
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Ever since you learned to walk you ran away
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kept running till you couldn't feel your legs
|
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Now you stumble round this drunken town
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pawn shops and titty bars
|
telling tales of just how far you got
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But they'll all know who you are
|
Yeah you're not so great
|
You're just early out of the gate
|
|
there's a portrait of your mom when she was young
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Her face was shining brightly as the sun
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The son who got away from her
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but came back home again
|
to find a women wrapped
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with all this love she couldn't give
|
But you know she did
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You just couldn't feel it then
|
|
Found a birthday card from this lady I used to know
|
It said boy you're really starting to get old
|
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She's the mother of my mother
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I knew just what she meant
|
She'd been through it before
|
she'd known of all of this resentment
|
becomes regret
|
I just hadn't gotten there yet
|
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Nothing ever seems to turn out right
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No never, never seems to turn out right
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So I leave it at this
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my deep blues need rest
|
|
-----------------
|
Early Out the Gate
|
The Good Life |