And I wouldn't put it past me
But ain't nothing to steal here no more
Just a cool, cool rain pouring
Racing down this skin of ours
And we've tried dancing through it
In some empty liquor store
Under purple neon lighting
Wounded soldiers to no war
And here we are getting stuck again somewhere
Between fucked up and beautiful
Running barefoot on the highway
I'm not done I need some more
And now there's blue paint in your hair and
There are bruises in your voice
When you say «
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