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Old West, couch bound and reaching for the reset
Sure bet, ten to win on, sorry's not an option
We get paychecks to help support the habit
In debt, it's all a part of the process
We hate when conversation
It gets the backseat
To the cold cold coldest shoulder
And you're left in full retreat
Hey, room, I think we ought to separate pretty soon
I've been stuck, it's like the way the waves depend upon the moon
Shit luck, that's an excuse that we've been known to use
Enough, this botched rhyme scheme has seen enough abuse