My sweetheart is a yogi
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The painter's still asleep
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I'm stuck here in my scoggie
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The smell is in trouble deep
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The president's head is played
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The garbage is pilin up
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The schoolyard kids are playin
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I'm on my second Coke
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Nick's goin' with me
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The neighbor's bangin
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Don't make me a bug
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Nick's goin' to a hangin'
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Oh, honey please, wona¢æ¢ât you come?
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The dancin' sweetheart's smokin'
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Mercury is higher
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Ia¢æ¢âm scared to death but fallin'
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Now Jupiter is on fire
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I wish I had a dollar
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For every dream I've had
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The cat took off her collar
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Now I need to calm her down
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Nick's goin' to me
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Guitars are playin'
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You can hear them strum
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We're goin' to a hangin'
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Oh, honey please, won't you come?
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It's called a crime of passion
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It's called a circus tribe
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The media teeth are nashing
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While wearin' that anchor's smile
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I sure can face the ocean
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The desert burnt the toast
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I wish I had some lotion
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I feel like a piece of toast
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Nick's goin' to leave
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Bells are ringin'
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Goin to death and to jump
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We're goin' to a hangin'
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Oh, honey please, wona¢æ¢ât you come?
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Oh, honey please, wona¢æ¢ât you come?
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-----------------
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Letters to Mommy
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Desert Sessions |