Well there's sand in my book
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From writing on the beach
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Trying to find a song for you
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That the ocean can only reach
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And this beach is getting wider
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Than my train of thought is long
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And each little grain of sand
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Is some other asshole poets song
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So i'll try to get this right
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Before the sunburn says i'm wrong,
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Says i'm wrong
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I keep on shooting clever guns
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That blow up in my face
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And what good to say i'm sorry
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When time it wont erase
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All the times i hit erase
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On every word you said to me
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And just covered it up
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Like dogshit on a pretty city street
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Just to not piss off the neighbors
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No wonder i cant sleep, i cant sleep
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A song without a chorus,
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This is my first attempt
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Cuz that would really bore us
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And the title would go limp
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But these words just keep on shooting
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Out my pen just like a gun
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And i'm aiming at your ears
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Trying not to come undone
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Cuz you love the smell of gunshots
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And the company of one.. no fun
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They'll probably say this sucks
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But i don't really care
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And i used the "gunshot" word
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So it wont get on the air
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While the rappers do a driveby
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And smoke crack then praise the lord
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While a white-bread singer songwriter
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Has to stand here looking bored
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And while i'm at it, i should mention
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That all the guns i used in my
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Songs were fake...
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Not real... plastic..
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Fuck... get real... blast it...
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I still love you
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-----------------
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Song Without A Chorus
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Butch Walker |