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The John Jouberts Lyrics
I dreamt I was a drummer
You and I were in a band
We were called "The John Jouberts"
We played the so cold basements
This woman came to see us
She was furious as hell
You see her son
He was a victim
Of the name
Spray-painted
Across my drum shells
I can't recall the rest too well
We were Young Turks in the 80s
As winter white-washed Omaha
A boogie man was on the loose
Hunting boys about five-foot-tall
And we knew we fit the profile
Though I'd often point out those boys were blonde
That winter froze our childhood
I suppose
I suppose, our innocence never thawed
So here's a song for Danny Joe Eberle
Here's a song for Chris Walden
They both took a slow bullet
So us other Turks could live
And I don't know how to thank them
And even thanking them feels wrong
If they could know I'm still thinking of them
I am
I am thankful I'm here
But hate that they're gone
They say "the good die young"
What a shitty thing to say
"The good die young"
You and I were in a band
We were called "The John Jouberts"
We played the so cold basements
This woman came to see us
She was furious as hell
You see her son
He was a victim
Of the name
Spray-painted
Across my drum shells
I can't recall the rest too well
As winter white-washed Omaha
A boogie man was on the loose
Hunting boys about five-foot-tall
And we knew we fit the profile
Though I'd often point out those boys were blonde
That winter froze our childhood
I suppose
I suppose, our innocence never thawed
Here's a song for Chris Walden
They both took a slow bullet
So us other Turks could live
And I don't know how to thank them
And even thanking them feels wrong
If they could know I'm still thinking of them
I am
I am thankful I'm here
But hate that they're gone
They say "the good die young"
What a shitty thing to say
"The good die young"
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