Rob Klajda - Song's The Same lyrics

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Rob Klajda - Song's The Same lyrics

Played out and laid out in this triangle town Tongue tied and battered By the circuits of sound Give me a minute and Ill strike up a pose Packed tight Into my loose fitting designer clothes The DJ rocks, his needle drops Salvation on a dead end street The tattooed girls are squirming To the factory beat Any other night And they would be safe at home Piercing body parts and deconstructing Suicide poems The songs the same How hard you listen Makes all the difference in the world But I aint saying anything different From anything youve already heard Ten gallon hat, three inch heels And boot cut jeans Quarterback cowboys Coaching line dancing teams Ill bet they really do have fences to mend Choking the reigns On some old Mercedes Benz A buckskin ballerina Does a perfect honky-tonk pli She pulls a dollar from the fingers Of a badly drawn toupee A deal is signed in sawdust, Two new lovers retreat On down the trailer park boardwalk To hillbilly beach Just another culture built on urban decay Theres extra college credit If youre homeless for the day Dont mind the rats- they live here too Theyll bite your feet and steal your food We shower under broken pipes Im sorry- wish it wasnt true The junkies on the south side Hang out by the trains The coming and the going Only adds to their pain Years ago theyd never guessed Theyd grow up to be weeks from d**h How sad to see that life is measured Breathe by breathe A dozen Harley scooters Congregate outside A chrome and steel welcome mat To an afterhours dive The beer is cold, the whiskeys cheap The whole place smells like leather On the jukebox David Allen Coe sings Panheads Forever The people in this tavern Come in here to unwind After twelve long hours of sweat On the a**embly line They dont dress up like bikers Cause its the latest style Some people really were Born to be wild