| Just once, I want to poke my negative stress in the chest,
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| Swing a haymaker left and not rest 'til I beat it to death
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| Breathe in the best breath ever once I clean up the mess
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| Yet whenever I step, it retreats deeper into its nest
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| Just once, I wish to bridge the gap between me and that dude
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| The man I could’ve been after I realized that I had to
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| The type of cat to have past loves asking, «Is that you?»
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| But that’s cool, you still don’t recognize when I pass, boo
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| I wish that I could hold feelings, 'cuz feelings hold me
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| Together, yet broken, closely at arm’s length from me
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| I sometimes wonder if these epiphanies will kill me
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| Creeping out of the deep, dark, corners of the real me
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| Lost moments of speech, snatched away by the wind
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| I guess it’s time to look inside and find a line again
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| I revive my grin as I begin to spend the 5 or 10 minutes it takes to dive
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| within and realign my Zen
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| Ask a poet where a song comes from, he’ll tell you the soul
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| But the detail they fail to unveil is that the tale has been told
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| It’s the air when it’s cold, it’s the parents that carried you home
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| It’s what’s scary in those areas where you won’t dare me to go
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| In my hand I hold the soul of a poet
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| Hoping to throw it over the moat of Moet, and boats full of heads with no necks
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| Who protest against my inappropriate openness
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| Standing at the edge of this precipice, staring at nothingness, just
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| Abyss |