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you said I'd wake up, get drunk
alone in the park
I called you a liar
but how right you were
air-conditioned TV land
twenty-grand walk to the bank
with shakes from the night before
starin' at tikki-floor
high-school wedding-ring
keys are under the mats
of all the houses here
but not the motels
I try to sing it funny, like Beck
but it's bringing me down
lower than ground
beautiful ground
beautiful ground
I'll still be listening to grandaddy in 5 years
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