| Apartment at dusk, a gray Brooklyn sky
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| A train that I’m missing
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| A cheap travel mug that leaks from the side
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| Damp coat and mittens
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| If you don’t find a steady job now, if you don’t find a steady job now, oh no
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| If you don’t find someone to love now, if you don’t find someone to love now,
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| oh no
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| You will die freezing cold and alone
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| You will die freezing cold and alone
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| They’ve got full blown homes, they’re married with kids and appliances
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| I’m doing dishes
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| Alone in your car, the heat doesn’t work
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| Baby, we’re scramblin'
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| If you don’t find a steady job now, if you don’t find a steady job now, oh no
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| If you don’t find someone to love now, if you don’t find someone to love now,
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| oh no
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| You’re alone and you’re wet in a hospital bed
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| And your family and friends will inherit your debt
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| As you breathe from machines, yeah, I know it sounds mean
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| But you’re probably gonna die alone
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| If you don’t find a clock to punch now
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| Or find yourself a steady fuck now
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| Oh, no
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| Your family and friends will inherit your debt
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| And you’re probably gonna die alone
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| Yeah, your family and friends will inherit your debt
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| And you’re probably gonna die alone |