| That little kid in the window’s looking out at the winter like:
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| «This whole world is mine if I can get this bitch to shine»
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| There’s no kind of friction to find
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| 'Cause ain’t nobody runnin' towards the same finish line
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| Looking at the dirty snow in the street make you believe
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| Everybody must’ve just adjusted to the grief
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| Choose what you use to motivate yourself
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| You can either hate me or you can hate yourself
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| Can’t trust your fears
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| You spent a whole bunch of years being judged by peers
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| All you wanted was to touch my ears
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| And get inside of my head like: «What the fuck’s in here?»
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| Had to take space from the hazardous waste
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| Save the rags for acid rain flashbacks
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| If it can wash off that awful toxic aftertaste
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| Maybe that can replace all your trash bags
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| Baby, I don’t know, but you’re obviously feeling yourself
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| And that’s a beautiful thing, I hope you’re real with yourself
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| 'Cause all we got is ourselves and these mouths to feed
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| And those keys on your belt that held you down on your knees
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| Whatever dawg, I’m not the underdog
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| I’m just a side effect of following my thumbs through the fog
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| I’m outta here, all apologies to your kids
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| Your whole forest on fire, hollerin' 'bout the bridge
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| And everybody tryna do they best
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| But everybody’s best didn’t take the same piss test
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| I guess I should expect resentment affects perspective and context
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| And you’ve perfected your bomb threats
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| Yeah, we get high and we gon' die
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| But either way, those leaves don’t lie
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| And as the seasons go by, more friends say bye
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| Less luggage makes it easier to fly
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| And when the trees turn to skeletons, listen
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| You can hear the bones rattle in the wind
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| It’s a delicate condition
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| Everything’s gotta go if you wanna know what’s underneath the skin
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| We all have the capacity to take it there
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| But if I’m gonna use gravity to take it there
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| That’s a delicate condition, I’m not in the position
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| To tell how you livin'
|
| And when the trees turn to skeletons, listen
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| You can hear the bones rattle in the wind
|
| It’s a delicate condition
|
| Everything’s gotta go if you wanna know what’s underneath the skin
|
| We all have the capacity to take it there
|
| But if I’m gonna use gravity to take it there
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| That’s a delicate condition, I’m not in the position
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| To tell how you livin'
|
| And when the trees turn to skeletons
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| You can hear the bones rattle in the wind
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| It’s a delicate condition |