| I like skating to the store at night in autumn weather with a couple layers on
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| And maybe Wu playing over soft wheels on a mellow inclined plane
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| It’s those moments I could swear to anything that I’m the ultimate
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| Although it goes against the frequency on which I otherwise vibrate
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| Still an alternate dimension isn’t shit to miss
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| Do the 'rithmatic
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| I been ignoring every ache and pain to push into the lion’s own gum line
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| Navigate a bit of fire and brim, nevermind whatever transpire within
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| I’m out the other side a golden beam of lost sunlight
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| You take a brittle bone out for a little spin, I’m mostly into outer space
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| Or underneath a haunted freeway overpass, around a storm-worn flat square
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| Kicking wooden toys around and vandalizing random city property
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| A proper way to pencil-in a Saturday without cab fare
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| Bulldozer dozing over every brick or black top
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| Spin the backdrop
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| Metropolis or in the pretty backwoods
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| Bring wax, thanks bye
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| Black ops, all flat spots
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| Rat-a-tatting in forgotten back lots
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| Steady feel a pull to power-slide around brake lights
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| See him off into the fog
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| Figure 8-ing in the moon
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| Never let him know the odds
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| It isn’t part of how I move
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| See him off into the foul
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| Celebrating in the road
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| Never let him know the count
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| It isn’t part of how I go |