My Daddy called me on a Friday morning, so sad to tell me just what you'd done
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You tried so hard to make us all hate you but in the end you was the only one
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Sick, tired, pissed and wired, you never thought about anyone else.
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You tried in vain to find something to kill you
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In the end you had to do it yourself.
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Who's to blame for the loveless marriage, who's to blame for the broken band.
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You ran from life and all of it's pleasures, your own teeth marks on your own damned hand.
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Thrown out before the date's expired, you'd rather die than let anyone help,
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You'd rather die than take a stab at living.
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Nothing would kill you so you do it yourself.
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Everyone has those times when the night's so long
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The dead-end life just drags you down
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You lean back under the microphone
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And turn your demons into walls of goddamned noise and sound.
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And it's a sorry thing to do to your sweet sister
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It's a sorry thing to do to your little boy
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It's a sorry thing to do to the folks who love you
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Your Mama and Daddy lost their only boy
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Some should say I should cut you slack, but you worked so hard at unhappiness.
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Living too hard just couldn't kill you
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In the end you had to do it yourself.
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Living too hard just couldn't kill you
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In the end you had to do it yourself.
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Do It Yourself
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| Drive-By Truckers |