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The Good Life

272 Shouts   -   4,489,106 Scrobbles

Biography

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Top Songs

Total plays on Last.fm over the last 6 months
  1.  
    Lyrics
    The first time that I met her I was throwing up in the ladies room stall. She asked me if I needed anything; I said, "I think I spilled my drink". And that's how it started (or so I'd like to believe)...
    She took me to her mother's house outside of town where the stars hang down. She said she'd never seen someone so lost, I said I'd never felt so found - and then I kissed her on the cheek... and so she kissed me on the mouth.
    Spring was poppin' daises up 'round rusted trucks and busted lawn chairs. We moved into a studio in Council Bluffs to save a couple bucks. Where the mice came out at night, neighbors were screaming all the time. We'd make love in the afternoons to Chelsea Girls and Bachelor No. 2, I'd play for her some songs I wrote, she'd joke and say I'm shooting through the roof, I'd say, "They're all for you, dear, I'll write the album of the year."
    And I know she loved me then, I swear to God she did. It's way she'd bite my lower lip and push her hips against my hips and dig her nails so deep into my skin.
    The first time that I met her I was convinced I had finally found the one. She was convinced I was under the influence of all those drunken romantics - I was reading Fante at the the time - I had bukowski on the mind. She got a job at Jacob's serving cocktails to the local drunks. Against her will. I fit the the bill: I perched down at the end of the bar, She Said, "Space is not just a place for stars - I gave you an inch, you want a house with a yard." And I know she loved me once, but those days are gone. She used to call me everyday from a pay phone on her break for lunch - just to say she can't wait to come home.
    Album of the Year - (5:10)  -  5,995 plays
  2. Lovers Need Lawyers - (2:38)  -  2,915 plays
  3. Heartbroke - (1:56)  -  2,825 plays
  4. Inmates - (9:39)  -  3,008 plays
  5.  
    Lyrics
    I know a girl with cuts on her legs. I think that she hates the way she was made, but we never spoke of why they were there, I just squeezed them and kissed them 'til we both felt a bit better.
    And now I've returned to the town where she dwells; that small lonely cabin her grandfather built, I suppose that's where she's imprisoned herself, to write all those words she's too scared to tell - those sad, short stories of a girl curled up in her shell.
    Night and day she tends to the bar. She pours the drinks, they pour out their hearts. All that sorrow and alcohol weighs hard on her thoughts, so she writes them down....she loves them all.
    And when we'd make love she'd stare in my eyes.... I swore we had met a thousand times. Thousands of lives, thousands of nights.... She'd written of it a thousand lines.
    Night and day she tends to her bar. She pours me a drink for my parched heart. All my sorrow's in alcohol... she holds up the cup to my cracked lips for a kiss.
    Night and Day - (3:29)  -  2,463 plays
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