Listening to The Weepies again at 1am. Sweet.
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Gray, quiet and tired and mean
Picking at a worried seam
I try to make you mad at me over the phone
Red eyes and fire and signs
I'm taken by a nursery rhyme
I want to make a ray of sunshine and never leave home
No amount of coffee, no amount of cryin'
No amount of whiskey, no amount of wine
No no no no no,
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