| Going down with the rest of the rats on this stinking ship
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| Gonna drown in this dirty sea that smells like shit
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| Another night coated with blood, sweat and spit
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| Wake up again with a face full of floor
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| In another town that I’ve left before
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| At another time with all the memories that I could hoard
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| You can try to hold us down but we won’t submit
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| A mouthful of slogans might as well be shit
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| It all tastes the same to a bunch of hypocrites
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| We roam the land, living in a van
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| Hosing down wherever we can
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| And I trace it all back to six days in Amsterdam
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| I’m tired but I’m persistent I took the path that was most resistant
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| I’ve covered so much distance, I never asked for any assistance
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| Rock bottom ain’t that bad, the bottle’s looking better every night
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| To this lad, I can’t measure my wealth by the things I have
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| But I’ll sleep tight tonight
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| Sweating blood to make it work
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| I woke up alone again in a park somewhere in Koln
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| I can still taste the blood I’ve left on every microphone
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| From Cutler Ridge to the Berlin Wall
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| Throwing up blood and alcohol
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| Lost an engine but I found myself in a whack shack in Arkansas
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| The suits came knocking, said they represent
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| Some fat cat asshole seeking settlement
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| For defacing an American dream his -AAA-dvertisment
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| Another time, murder on my mind
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| A cold shiver runs down my spine
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| I can trace it all back the these feelings I confine |