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My shoes tell me stories of all of my old friends
And how we spent our money on stupid shit, we'll never get back
We smoked it all away
And every blunt we rolled was wrapped in sadness and dipped in gold
And if I can't write a song without smoking a bowl
Then how am I going to live when I get too old
Should I just move away
Eventually we'll start to think twice about our lives
And we'll pay the price but it's cheap
And we're still poor
The last thing we need is one more bill you know we can't afford
Should we just move away
