my whole life is held together with duct tape,
it’s like there’s never enough tape to go around, I try to make it count,
slippin’ through all the close shaves, I’m lettin’ go what I can’t save,
down, but I’m not out..
my old car, it’s hard to say what’ll go first,
the body or motor, rusting through and wearing out,
but it slips past inspection, and on further reflection
gets me where I’m bound,
so if you’re used, you’ll fit right in,
I never know where to begin
and if you’re blue beneath your skin,
it’s just a bruise, yesterday’s news,
and you will mend…
my old friends, they’re like the cardigan sweaters
I’ve collected in thrift stores, they do me so much good,
I’m savin’ all the various colors, I’m the next Mr. Rogers
I got my own neighborhood,
and if you’re used, you’ll fit right in,
I never know where to begin
and if you’re blue beneath your skin,
it’s just a bruise, yesterday’s news,
if you’re used, well that’s no sin,
we’ll find somewhere to begin
and if you’re blue beneath your skin,
it’s just a bruise, yesterday’s news,
and you will mend…
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