Well I'm sitting alone with my guitar slidly out of tune and it's a lovely night in June. And I try to write a song With a happy slomo melody like I have tried so many times before But I can't really tell you, what is wrong but all that comes out is another sad song maybe it's because I slept too long and nobody called me on the phone. Maybe I should hit town, have some fun to smalltalking drink to the morning sun maybe I should buy a brandnew dress or learn up a usefull game like chess. Another lonely night, turns to day with another hair of mine, turning grey No I can't really tell you just what is wrong, my dear, but still what comes out is another sad song.
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