There was something in the envelope she passed him
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That weighed more to him than paper and some ink
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It had a hint of something darker and a hint of something sweet
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And a little extra glue right on the tip
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There was something in the pain that shot right through him
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As he climbed up to the place he called his home
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They say every man's house should be his palace
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But his castle stank of cat shit and alone
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So he opened it and found a faded picture
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Of a girl he's never met, but somehow seen
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Like a memory of a dream from early childhood
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Like a virgin's idea of release
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She said "I can bend my arms until they're backward
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But you can't bend your will to take in mine
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And I could hold my breath until next Wednesday
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And still be doing fine"
|
|
He was sad in ways he couldn't tell her
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Though she could make his sadness all her own
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He couldn't see the use in spreading sadness
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So he took his dark depression and went home
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She saw things in him he never bargained
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But it wasn't enough to save either one of them
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Because she took that sadness one step further
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And left him all alone to face the end
|
|
-----------------
|
Wednesday
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| Drive-By Truckers |