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The Boy Come Home

Advisory - the following lyrics contain explicit language:

While I go over it in my head

I walk through those doors and stand there staring

There ain't one soul that's in there dead

My hand stays out, I keep my headAnd walking out I see you sitting

In that Ford of your old man's

Scratching your arms like your skin is crawling

But done up the best you canFace first pilot through your window

Them paupers they catch hell

It's strange to think we could have been so

Brought up by ourselves

Run through the streets like rivers raging

To seas of barren sand

And while every grain tears you apart stay

Done up the best you canUnemployment lines stretched to the desert

And camouflaged hotels

Where traded up to new distinctions

Puts justice in your shells

Take one for the team and that pretty lady

Used to cover up the smell

When you get back boy you're just crazy

If you dare kiss and tellThis aching heart ain't something I done

This aching heart's been handed down

But I'm done with it now

I'm done with it now

I'm done with it nowSo I take this screaming in my head

I walk through those doors and stand there staring

And my hand slips into my coat

And everything just freezesRunning out I see you sitting

In that Ford of your old man's

The boy come home, yeah

The boy come home, yeah

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