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Tono:
C I've crushed cans, and I've crushed gravel,
F And I crushed Grandma's leg in the
C door of a cadillac, (She walked with a limp but she learned her lesson)
C Now I'm crushing on you babe,
F Like the grainy innards of a
G store-bought Hacky Sack. (You know how a Hacky Sack has that cshh cshhh in it)
C I drunk a beverage with crushed
F ice, and it was nice, But not nearly as nice as what one
G night with you might be like.
F I'd like to crush you, under the
C weight of my loooooove,
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F Brushing up against you is like,
G touching an electric doooooove.
C I've crushed dirt clods with my boots,
F And boxes after I moved, But what I wouldn't do for a 30
G second convo with you.
C I'd show you my collection of civil war prosthetics,
F And tell you a secret and never regret it, Like I've got a subdermal arm that
G the doctors can't explain. (I think you might regret that)
C I'd take your hand and place it
F mine, not the subdermal one but the one outside, And then give you a manicure, and grab the other hand, and start the
G process over again.
F I'd like to crush you, under the
C weight of my loooooove,
F Brushing up against you is like,
G touching an electric doooooove.
F I'd like to bulldoze the barriers
C between your heart and miiiiiine,
F I'd like to backhoe a ditch but
G call the gas company ahead of time.
F And by call the gas company, I mean
G call you (yeah),
C What's your number?
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