dirty wedding dress

Bleachers

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    Well, listen, I've got something up on my mind
    And I think it's time that we talked
    There's too many interlopers that are showing up
    And some of 'em deserve second thoughts
    'Cause when the past makes you wanna die a little
    And dying makes you wanna work
    Well, then how we gonna find any room to have a life?
    I think it's time we lifted the curse

    Say the mantra
    I love goodbyes
    Ooh

    A dirty wedding dress is a promise
    I knew it that night at the shore
    And I knew it that night on the rooftop
    I knew that she was from before
    So we got married that August
    And the neighbors all lost their minds
    We had to board up all the windows and shoot out the drones
    We took that sadness right from Saturday night

    Now only my people can see me
    Only my people come in
    Everybody outside talking like they know
    But no, they don't know

    They don't know what they think, what they thought, thought they heard
    What's the time, where they're at, what's the word, herb's the word
    No, they don't understand these bits and they'll never get why
    So glory to the ones getting right

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    Say the mantra
    I love goodbyes

    Well, on tour with the band, there's like a backstage party
    And this reporter makes her way across the room to me
    She asks me about my loss, she laughs and calls it canon
    She asks if I will read her latest piece
    Oh, Penny Lane, they're edging all over me
    And a critic has moved up the block
    Jokes he wants publishing 'cause I referenced him one time
    I'm like: What the fuck?

    Well, Sammy writes pieces for the big machine
    'Cause a book deal can't even pay the rent
    But Pac-Manning another artist to put a dollar in his pocket
    He's like: I'm a lone working-class man!

    Maybe that's why mom stays down at the shore most the time
    We're always meeting her there to breathe
    Oh, yeah, it's nice to feel special, it's nice to have a think
    And it's nice to get a break from that cynical beat

    I think my dirty wedding suit was a promise
    That I'll never let 'em take my soul
    Yeah, you're too good to spend any time in the mud
    Yes, you're a truth to behold

    So how can I talk to the ones counting streams
    Or the ones who like to bully the dolls
    Or the ones waiting in line to get ripped off just to turn around and rip someone else off
    Baby, aren't you sick of it all?

    Now only my people can see me
    Only my people come in
    Everybody outside talking like they know
    But no, they don't know

    I'm saying: No, they don't know
    Three times
    No, no, no, they don't know
    I'm saying: No, they don't know
    Close the door
    And one, two, three
    Make it stop

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