| coming of age during the plague
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| of reagan and bush
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| watching capitalism gun down democracy
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| it had this funny effect on me
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| i guess
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| i am cancer
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| i am HIV
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| and i’m down at the blue jesus
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| blue cross hospital
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| just lookin' up from my pillow
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| feeling blessed
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| and the mighty multinationals
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| have monopolized the oxygen
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| so it’s as easy as breathing
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| for us all to participate
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| yes they’re buying and selling
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| off shares of air
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| and you know it’s all around you
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| but it’s hard to point and say «there»
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| so you just sit on your hands
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| and quietly contemplate
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| your next bold move
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| the next thing you’re gonna need to prove
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| to yourself
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| what a waste of thumbs that are opposable
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| to make machines that are disposable
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| and sell them to seagulls flying in circles
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| around one big right wing
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| yes, the left wing was broken long ago
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| by the slingshot of cointelpro
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| and now it’s so hard to have faith in
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| anything
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| especially your next bold move
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| or the next thing you’re gonna need to prove
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| to yourself
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| you want to track each trickle
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| back to its source
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| and then scream up the faucet
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| 'til your face is hoarse
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| cuz you’re surrounded by a world’s worth
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| of things you just can’t excuse
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| but you’ve got the hard cough of a chain smoker
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| and you’re at the arctic circle playing strip poker
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| and it’s getting colder and colder
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| everytime you lose
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| so go ahead
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| make your next bold move
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| tell us
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| what’s the next thing you’re gonna need to prove
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| to yourself |