| I’m good to go, and I’m going nowhere fast
|
| It could be worse, I could be taking you there with me
|
| I’m good to go, but it looks like I’m still on my own
|
| I’m good to go for something golden
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| Though the motions I’ve been going through have failed
|
| And I’m coasting on potential towards a wall at a 100 miles an hour
|
| When I say
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| Two more weeks, my foot is in the door, yeah
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| I can’t sleep, in the wake of Saturday (Saturday)
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| Saturday, when these open doors were open-ended
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| Saturday, when these open doors were open-ended
|
| Pete and I attacked the Lost Astoria
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| With promise and precision and mess of youthful innocence
|
| And I read about the afterlife
|
| But I never really lived more than an hour (more than an hour)
|
| When I say
|
| Two more weeks, my foot is in the door, yeah
|
| I can’t sleep, in the wake of Saturday (Saturday)
|
| Saturday, when these open doors were open-ended
|
| Saturday, when these open doors were open-ended
|
| And I read about the afterlife, but I never really lived
|
| And I read about the afterlife, but I never really lived
|
| Two more weeks, my foot is in the door
|
| Me and Pete, in the wake of Saturday
|
| Saturday, when these open doors were open-ended
|
| Saturday, when these open doors were open-ended
|
| Saturday, Saturday… |