| (one of those nights
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| warm beer, cold women
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| I just don’t fit in)
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| It goes 1, it goes 2, it goes
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| 3−2 red dog in the hoodie
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| too much «person» in your «ality», the friction could be
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| Should we continue with dialogue as I study these new faces
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| I would fix my shoe laces, but the room place was
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| Shoes cut loose at the front door,
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| got dirty socks, I’m on the floor
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| and thoughts is what I hunt for
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| Driftin in and out of conversations I know nothing about
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| F**k your topics, I didn’t come to see you
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| But yo I’m here, might as well make the worst of this warm shitty beer
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| and I’m nursin it, and cursin it
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| I’m sick of it, but still grippin it and sippin it
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| Hopin it will dull the pain of the sight of your lips flippin' shit
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| So here I sit, inside my atmosphere
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| I don’t know a single motherf**ker here,
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| but maybe that’s my fear
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| Pull out my notebook and let go
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| Intro-spectro cep,
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| Not so pleased to meet you,
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| and I hate techno
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| I only came to see the girl that lives here,
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| TW #11, cold women warm beer
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| I only came to see the girl that lives here,
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| TW #11, cold women warm beer |