If I ask you to waste a little more time with me you'll see what a waste I really am Who could blame you? (x2) Long legs & a library I could be ignored more and more every year I could be absorbed an 8th of an ounce at a time Well this sound screams for miles down your road And my voice pleads curiously through Belle Meadow Back home, back country Front bench of a pick up might as well be your coffin. Yeah, I don't it. Yeah, I don't care much. The people you call your friends are fuckups.

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