You Am I
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Friends Like You

You Am I


With friends like you
I could throw away my TV
Cause I’ve got it all in spades now
All triumph and tragedy

And the weed you keep in your pocket now
Like a stone from a distance thrown
It’s a gamblers trick, it's a pain in the dick
Must have bought it on myself somehow, hey

With friends like you
With friends like you
It’s a wonder why a guy gets bent

You got a fine, fine way
Draggin those clouds underneath the sun
And those darkest sunsets tea bags, cologne
And sympathy toast you all alone
You pick me up like a second hand coat
Spit and shine
A pocket knife
But the things you forget hang around like a bet
You say there’s always a price, price

With friends like you
With friends like you
It’s a wonder why a guy gets bent

When you raining on the parades
And the piss stains and champagne
You got it?

When good fortune’s holding you like she means it
You hold her by the hand
Take her somewhere nice and quiet

When good fortune’s holding you like she means it
’Cos when the going gets tough
She’ll kick you in the nuts
And watch your Christmas list wither and die! (die!) die! (die!)

With friends like you
With French IQ
It’s a wonder why a guy gets bent

Compositor: Tim Adrian Rogers
ECAD: Obra #26762601

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