| The barons of industry put inspiration on Hitler’s tongue
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| The next century crashed hard with a loud sound like a starting gun
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| It’s race for acquisition and to make more things that glow
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| I got a knack for dodging bullets and flying zeros
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| So I act like I am rich, try and make it my whole look
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| 'Cause poor people don’t exist when times are good
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| Mozart’s foster parents put cigarettes out in his ears
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| When he got old enough to stutter he said, I don’t listen but I-I-I can hear
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| The eloquence of traffic, yeah, the millpond’s sad lament
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| It’s a requiem of moments I keep living through them
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| But where’s the monster in the closet? |
| I can’t find the hangman inside his hood
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| I guess evil don’t exist when times are good
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| Doctor Oppenheimer winced when he felt the broken piece of his pace-maker
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| Unbuttoned his shirt on a subway platform clutching his chest while his vision
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| blurred
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| He saw the bane of his creation, the destroyer of the world
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| Yeah, truth can leap to solace or a life long bender
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| It’s like wading through a wasteland where a town you love once stood
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| You just cry each time you think of when times were good
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| Napoleon’s tailor dressed him in a giant hat and funny platform shoes
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| Saying anyone can be a hero you just got to force people to look up to you
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| So when you’re talking on a hotline to a suicidal soul
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| Don’t let your voice sound like hot coffee more like a scented pillow
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| And strive for understanding over being understood
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| Just don’t let yourself forget when the times get good
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| When the times get good |