| The Leaving Kind |
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Copyright © 2009 words and music by Dean Batstone The sunglasses you trashed slide back and forth across my dash A cold reminder of that road trip to LA I light a cigarette and baby, I don’t even smoke Another piece of you that I can’t seem to shake That’s my mistake ‘cause Ch: You’re the leaving kind You’re the leaving kind Leaving doors ajar and empty bars and everything you can’t fix with a smile That’s your style What’s that sound, love Coming down, love I’ll see ya ‘round, love You’re the leaving kind I just shake my head, change the channel on the screen Brace my back against the wall, try not to think Now I’m talking to myself, I can’t believe I took you back I’m such a sucker for a smile and a wink Hey, where’s my drink What’s that blowing in the breeze Another note you left for me Stuck to my windshield with a lipstick kiss That’s what I’ll miss Leaving doors ajar and empty bars and everything you can’t fix with a smile Leaving serenades in broken time and dusty words that I can never rhyme Leaving sorrys you forgot to say and conversations dangling out of time Leaving diaries without a key, empty bottles spelling out goodbye Leaving photographs taped to the door, sheets half crumpled on the floor And me me
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