The Pusher Held

We were only 17, we hadn't learned how
People keep from doing drugs in a small town
Where making love is the only thing
To care about
She worked at a diner, I worked at a shoe store
Close to gettin' fired, always calling in 'cause the
Sun felt nice upon our skin
When we got high
On opiates

We were only 17, we hadn't seen
That the choices turn to memories
Eventually some will Hold you down
And keep you cuffed
And rough you up
We were only 17, I felt a breeze
I said lets move to atlanta, please
But the pusher held her in his tow
And she went

Even deeper down then
Deeper down then
Deeper dow then
She went deeper and deeper still
Deeper down then
Deeper down then
Deeper down then
She went deeper and deeper still



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