| Lately I have been noticing
|
| That this other life
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| Does not revolve around
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| A silly war dream
|
| I have been
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| Living underneath
|
| And everything I’m meant to hear
|
| Is not making sense anymore
|
| Get up on me
|
| Get down on me
|
| I know you’ll never claim me
|
| All these years
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| Spent internally
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| Trapped under the wheels
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| Which would only spin
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| For the outside’s needs
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| All so indiscreet
|
| And then supposedly
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| All fell incomplete
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| I began to breathe
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| And then the grid fell in
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| So now the patience leaks
|
| Time to switch the film
|
| Capture a brand new scene
|
| But now they start to sneer
|
| So it’s about time I warned
|
| The disinterested:
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| Get up on me
|
| Get down on me
|
| I know you’ll never claim me
|
| But all that flesh
|
| Rips through like a shockwave
|
| The flash of eyes
|
| Brighter than a nuclear sunrise
|
| You always had to be artificial
|
| You always had to shine your floodlights past me
|
| I am not all I’m supposed to be
|
| In fact I’m under the impression that they all agree
|
| But yet they keep it sealed
|
| Underneath their grins
|
| Until I wander past
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| Dragging this insecurity
|
| But all they want to see
|
| Is a pretentious glee
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| And that’s quite fine by me
|
| Whatever helps it spin
|
| It’s just a script, you see
|
| That functions independently
|
| Of one’s unique identity
|
| Promptly spit out by the social grid
|
| Was that too much to take in?
|
| This should be easier:
|
| Get off of me
|
| I know you’ll never claim me
|
| But all that flesh
|
| Rips through like a shockwave
|
| The flash of eyes
|
| Brighter than an nuclear sunrise
|
| And I just wish I was artificial
|
| So I could reach out and mute
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| This swollen silence
|
| Just step aside
|
| Let it all slide
|
| You are the outside |