| I know it gets f*cking exhausting just tallying the costs
|
| And counting all the change you get on the one free hand
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| That’s not holding that gun to your head
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| Wake up with an order to stand down from somewhere above
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| And try to figure out why it is you hate to be loved
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| And what you wanna be if you grow up…
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| Resignations that you learn by rote
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| Like oh so slowly cutting your own throat
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| When you can no longer tell the poison from the antidote
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| Is it all just self made sabotage
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| Shoot straight up in the air, stand and await the barrage
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| Is this for real or just another mirage
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| Wrenching away in this three chord garage?
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| Everybody gets just one, for some they come to fast
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| And all thats left is a tape, a hollow voice from the past
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| History you can’t teach in a class
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| A misery blitz then a click and a blast…
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| Resignations that you learn by rote
|
| Like oh so slowly cutting your own throat
|
| When you can no longer tell the poison from the antidote
|
| A revolution burned note by note and in return you learn who’s the turncoat
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| When you can no longer tell the poison from the antidote
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| Floater in the wreckage but you don’t have to be
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| Pick a direction start to paddle or stay lost at sea
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| Flounder in the shallows so aimlessly
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| Or you can take a breath and plunge into the darkest deep
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| Yeah only one thing in this world that’s gonna save your life
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| Staring back from the mirror every day and night
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| The only one who’ll understand your plight
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| The only one who’ll be there if you ever get it right… |