| Still in Brooklyn
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| Lullabies chime crooked
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| For the harrowed and the shook-en
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| Back to dose me
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| Back to hold the high closely
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| For the sparrows and the butchers
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| See the blood moon hunters moon hear the howling
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| For the habit and the hammered and the cowering
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| In the magic with the haunted and the doubted
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| There are ghosts here
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| There’s a presence there’s a power
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| For the tightrope over tank with the piranhas
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| For the frazzled its a moment its a promise
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| To be broke down to be lowdown to be honest
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| Another showdown with the woozy and the conscious
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| For the aggy with the baggy with the bottle
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| With a smile with a sip with a swallow
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| And don’t you ever try to say that you’re not one of us, my love
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| We are the touched
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| We are entrusted with the same tomorrow
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| (Till I get there)
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| I’m still living like a four dollar vic. |
| (Jumping off the world)
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| (Till I get there)
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| A lot of trouble four a little bit of win. |
| (Jumping off the world)
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| (Until I get there)
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| In the gasoline and sulfur in the sin. |
| (Jumping off the world)
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| (Until I get there)
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| You cannot throw me in the briar patch, bitch
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| That is where I live
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| (Jumping off the world)
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| This album is dedicated to Camu Tao
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| And this goes out to the…
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| To the maniacs
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| And aristocrat grifters
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| To the zealots
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| To the monarchs
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| What up brainiacs?
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| Compulsively acidic rainiacs
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| Repulsively predictable painiacs
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| To the liars
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| For the devils night fires
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| Same to you too town cryer
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| Top O’the morning morbid
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| Quite a day we’re having gorgeous
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| Salutations unimportant
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| Hello uninspired
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| I thought I’d drop on by and wish you all the luck desired
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| I wish you all the souls your little mouth can tuck inside
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| You’ll always be that special part of me
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| That loves to dine on grinning void
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| So flirty touches dizzy lust I must imbibe
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| And what a team we made
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| There’s nothing we can’t justify
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| But I am the son disgust entrusted with the undefined
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| And I can no longer contain whats under my disguise
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| I’ve always had the cancer for the cure
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| That’s what the fuck am I
|
| (Till I get there)
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| I’m still living like a four dollar vick. |
| (Jumping off the world)
|
| (Till I get there)
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| A lot of trouble four a little bit of win. |
| (Jumping off the world)
|
| (Until I get there)
|
| In the gasoline and sulfur in the sin. |
| (Jumping off the world)
|
| (Until I get there)
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| You cannot throw me in the briar patch, bitch
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| That is where I live
|
| (Jumping off the world)
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| I know there’s
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| Something good that I’d die here for
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| Something great that I’d live here for
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| Something fly that I’d write for you
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| Something wrong that I’d bite you for
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| Something sick that you’d cure me of
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| Something said to make sure you’re loved
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| Some of us cannot trust no one
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| Some of us don’t deserve no trust
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| Nothing wrong with not being strong
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| Nothing says we need to beat what’s wrong
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| Nothing manmade remains made long
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| That’s a debt we can’t back out of
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| Nothing that they can take from you
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| Nothing that they can do to me
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| Nothing I wouldn’t do for you
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| Nothing left here but you and me
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| There’s nothing they would do for you, differently
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| They’re not even listening
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| They don’t even glean what we’re existing in
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| There’s nothing here but love and you
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| Groveling, look what they’re accomplishing
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| The systematic gods have all demolished it
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| But I’ve never felt so brave
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| As when I’m looking at your face
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| They can decimate my body
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| But my heart will not disgrace
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| They can torture and interrogate
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| And shackle to my boot
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| I will gnaw off my own leg
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| And hop the fuck right back to you |