| It starts with a canvas
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| A starchy, blinding white
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| Then comes the flash of illumination
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| And the tools to record the plight
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| So I begin drowning the surface
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| With a swamp of acrylic swirls
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| I’ll get it right this time
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| This time it will last
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| Look at the world I’ve created
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| Watch it as it turns like a top
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| From the oceans and tides
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| To the clouds and blue skies
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| It’s more than you could ever
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| Dream to afford
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| It ends with a loose thread
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| And a curious hand
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| Like a boy who stumbles upon
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| His father’s gun
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| It’s housed in a sock drawer
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| Next to cigarettes and cheap porn
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| He loads the chamber with
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| One destined shot
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| His father always regrets
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| He left the safety off
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| Look at the world I’ve created
|
| Watch it as it turns like a top
|
| From the oceans and tides
|
| To the clouds and blue skies
|
| It’s more than you could ever
|
| Dream
|
| Look at the world I’ve created
|
| Watch it as it turns like a top
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| From the malls and estates
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| To the smoke stacks and freeways
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| It’s much more than you could afford
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| You’ve wasted this gift
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| Of beauty and science
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| And now my voice won’t be ignored
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| I’ll pull back the blinds
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| And open all your eyes
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| Let the sun drown you all |