Written by Butch Walker
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I see him look at you and speak with such eloquence
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All I can do is rhyme eloquence with presidence
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It's the only word I think about
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When your his and not mine...
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(So unkind, so unkind)
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And it gets so annoying like a chick magazine with 17 subscription cards shoved in between
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They fall past my seat
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And they land at my feet
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Right next my pride, now can you beat that?
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And what I can I say I go for racecars and goth rock
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And what can you do
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In this California gridlock
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I'm a broken down camaro overheated
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But you'll never know you're the one that caused this crash
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7 days passed since your last break up note
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With its shaky and scribbled out, started over, broken words
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That you wrote you know having what you needed wasn't good enough for you
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Never do, never do
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And now you're in his house that's the size of a mall
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I've never seen a grand piano look so fucking small
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You know probably one of many things that are small about him too
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And what I can I say I go for racecars and punk rock
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And what can you do
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In this California gridlock
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I'm a broken down camaro overheated
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But you'll never know you're the one that caused this crash
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Can we just try to forget that we were ever very different
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Cause the tattoo on your shoulder baby tells me that ain't true
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But I like that in you, so quit tryin' to prove yourself
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And wake up and lose yourself in me
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And what I can I say I go for racecars and cock rock
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And what can you do
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In this California gridlock
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I'm a broken down camaro overheated
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But you'll never know you're the one that caused this crash
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And what I can I say I go for racecars and pop rocks
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And what can you do
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In this California gridlock
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I'm a broken down camaro overheated
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But you'll never know you're the one that caused this crash
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Race Cars
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Butch Walker |