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Last Rites

The Horrible Crowes

Start up the car,
Bury your memories,
Call on your lovers
Speaking slow and heavy.

Call up your boyfriends from out by the ocean,
While I get my last rights read by a thief,
While I get my last rights read by a thief.

And you look so holy standing in the water,
From all my pictures I worshiped before you,
My baby just can't know good,
My baby just, she ain't no good.

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