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Lambchop
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The Old Matchbook Trick
Lyricist:Kurt Wagner
The last time that I came here I came down with a fever The next day it was gone With the suddenness of its arrival When we all were much younger Were we really different In the really real world we knew In the really real world we knew
Last night I saw the sun rise Over sleepy Barcelona Riding in a bus With the road crew from embrace Everyone was sleeping I noticed a reflection And saw the egg upon my face And saw the egg upon my face
The last thing I remember About waking up in Kristiansand Was gagging on my toothbrush As it wiped across my tongue Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Removed the drunken sailor Paid his bar and porno bill And I have to fuckin' hose him down And I have to fuckin' hose him down
The clarity is blinding Where's the befuddled middleman The gentle Goofus With his comedy and wit Spaced out in the crowd With the cramped and the cluttered Falls from his fingers to your hand Falls from your fingers to his hand
The old matchbook trick Keeps the table from wobble Slipped under the short leg Steadies the unsteadiness The lopsided conversation Makes a solid place to rest Arms and thoughts upon Arms and thoughts upon
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