![]() ![]() ![]() You’ve got a puddle for a heart, and it’s been raining since the start. There’s never gravel enough to fill all the memories we killed dumping whiskey down the drain. I’ve got gravel for a brain, and I’m not feeling any pain. ![]() Oh Susanna! Sweet Susanna! Oh Susannah, don’t you cry for me. But you broke my funny bone, with your goddamn sticks and stones. First it swallowed up my car, then it swallowed up the stars, it only eats the tender parts. POTHOLE HEART: You’ve got a pothole heart. No silver bullet in the gun, to kill the beast that you’ve become. It’s too late to die young, it’s too late to die young. This is tired, it aint fun, and don’t you know that no one won. All your songs have been sung, and all your deeds have been done. (CHORUS) It’s too late for wedding cake (for birthday cake, for happy cake.) Die young, for goodness sake, for a well attended wake. Well, you’re well past the age where heroes are made, It’s too late to be brave. It’s too late to be brave, way too late to be brave. And what once was and what might have been are passing in the night. You’re second wind is blowing thin less a wind and more of a sigh. No silver bullet in the gun to kill the beast that you’ve become. You’re grief, it fits like a glove when you curse God above. It’s too late to find love, it’s too late to find love. Throw your stones at the sun, you’re undone. TOO LATE TO DIE YOUNG: It’s too late to die young. ![]()
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