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The Real Tuesday Weld
The Real Tuesday Weld
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Stephen Coates
Stephen Coates
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I don't get high no more
I don't seem to fly no more
I drink all the drinks, but they don't do the trick
I do the same drugs, but they just make me sick
I try and I try, but I can't get my kicks
The way I did before
I don't live it up no more
I don't give a fuck no more
And there was a time I was queen of the street
I'd strut and I'd stride, but that shit got me beat
Now I can't deny that I can't compete
And frankly, it's a bore
Lately, I've been thinking about stuff
I'm quite relieved to concede
I think I've had more than enough
I don't pray much no more
I don't say much no more
I'm tongue-tied and trite or I ain't got the wit
The words come out right, but they don't seem to fit
I shout and I cry, but I have to admit
It's all been said before (Before, before)
I don't get high no more
I can't seem to fly no more
Since you walked through my door
I don't live it up, no, I don't give a
No, I don't get high no more
And there's no need to pray (No)
There's not much to say (No)
Stuff ain't the way that stuff was before
Since you kicked down my door
Written by: Stephen Coates
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