You notice that the laces of his boots are untied.
You start to feel like somebody died.
Standing up, he takes his boots away
And suddenly there’s nothing to say.
It seems so wrong.
That he can’t sing this song.
It’s unfair.
Don’t you think?
You check in to a 1-2-3 motel
And you lie down on the bed which is hell.
A flock of birds do fly away
Just as the night turns into day.
I feel like writing, it seems so inviting
But the words, oh the words they won’t stop fighting.
The scent of anger turns to a gun.
If anything you need to run.
It seems so wrong.
That he can’t sing this song.
It’s unfair.
Don’t you think?
You notice that the laces of his boots are untied.
You start to feel like somebody died.
Standing up, he takes his boots away
And suddenly there’s nothing to...
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