| The way that I feel, and what’s supposed to be real strongly disagree
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| There is one thing I keep in front of me
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| Cause cash won’t save, cars won’t transcend the grave
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| I call everyone I know the only things of value I could ever own
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| It worries my mind knowing days of my life slowly disappear
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| Is there something that I should be doing here with my time?
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| Should I fall in line?
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| I can’t chase the American Dream
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| Trading life for money never made much sense to me
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| And some may say that I’m already gone but I say, «Hey, if I’m wrong it all for
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| living this way? |
| I’m alright being wrong»
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| And I say, «Hey, as I slowly let possession slip away I feel I belong
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| I’m alright being wrong»
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| I try and I try to find appeal in 9 to 5, but I never win
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| Stuck in days that don’t seem to begin
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| The answer I find to the question in mind
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| King of diamonds, king of hearts? |
| One dies loved, and one is dead from the very
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| start
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| Things like this aren’t hard to resist as my mind persists allowing absolutely
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| no interest in things that fade as fast as they accumulate
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| I refuse to bury myself that way |