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Á¦¸ñ: Too Stoned To Cry
°¡¼ö: Andrew Combs


Lonely as these days are lone,
As dark as the night bursts on,
Strange way of living has been my heart dry.
I¡¯m a lonesome, but too stoned to cry.

My clothes, they¡¯re ragged and warm,
The sailor¡¯s calling the worst kind of storm.
The water keeps rising, but I¡¯m getting by.
I keep walking, I¡¯m too stoned to fly.

¡®cause whisky and wine compels for the pain,
Fast easy women and little cocaine.
I¡¯m walking in line between hell been and high,
I ain¡¯t happy, just too stoned to cry.

Now I¡¯m living from town to town,
I¡¯ve always been lost, I ain¡¯t never been found.
They say Jesus can save me, but that was a lie.
I keep trying, I¡¯m too stoned to die.
I keep trying, I¡¯m too stoned to die.

¡®cause whisky and wine compels for the pain,
Fast easy women and little cocaine.
I¡¯m walking in line between hell been and high,
I ain¡¯t happy, just too stoned to cry,
No, I ain¡¯t happy, just too stoned to cry.

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Too Stoned To Cry
Andrew Combs



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