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Grindstone
Blue Heelers- Henry Thomas
D E G A
Morning coffee and a cigarette, things havenât changed, at least not for me.
Sunday paper on the welcome mat, read about an empty cage on nearly every page.
No the guys donât come around no more, not after I got drunk, and told them all just
I thought.
I canât remember the last time I spoke to you, wasnât that long ago, maybe a week or so.
(CHORUS)
Why were you so anxious to go? Was it just my imagination, maybe it was and well now.
We are grindstones and we sharpen up our knives, carve away a cold dull gray slice of life.
Iâm awfully sorry for the wedding plans, I guess it didnât work out the way you wanted
to.
What the hell did you expect from me, I was only 21 my motherâs only son.
I sit around here almost every night, I donât stay out late, havenât got no place to go.
Thereâs not a single thing I wouldnât do for you and all you had to do was only ask me to.
(CHORUS)
Why were you so anxious to go? Was it just my imagination, maybe it was and well now.
We are grindstones and we sharpen up our knives, carve away a cold dull gray slice of life.
Pull out my slingshot and I shoot down the moon.
Thatâs what you are,
Thatâs what you are,
Thatâs what you are made to do
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