| Don’t push me 'cause I’m
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| Close to the edge
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| I’m tryin' not to
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| Lose my head, a-ha-ha-ha-ha
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| Nothin' in my pockets but an empty wallet and some house keys
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| And a fuck you for anyone who doubts me
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| As I walk the streets armed with the faith
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| That these boots will be enough to get me home in one piece
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| I exhale, breathe the air
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| Smoke trail got me thinkin' 'bout the reason I’m here
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| 'Cause I’m only 19 but my mind is old
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| Sydneysider heatwave to Minnesota cold
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| Cold like the streets of the Cross where underages
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| Litter the pavement, this ain’t «Paradise», it’s «Innocence Lost»
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| Cold like the veins of the junkies
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| Cold like the hearts of those who take their money
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| I swear to God somebody died on my block the other night
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| A life lost to a domestic fight, and that shit ain’t right
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| Now my picket fence don’t look so white
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| I wonder what possesses a man to kill his wife?
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| And as if that wasn’t enough, we got these fuckin'
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| Poker machines sucking the souls of our single mums
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| See, I’m like Tim Freedman, I wish I could blow 'em up
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| For all the futures that they ruined and the homes they’ve broken up
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| Now that’s proof of a cold world, they package an addiction
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| And they sell it as a game, but anyway
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| Times are exponential, two-party preferential
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| And though it’s incremental, day-to-day we makin' change
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| So here I am still tryna make this stone bleed
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| In the city of late trains and broken dreams
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| Where you rap with your talk, or you graff on the wall
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| You gotta make something outta nothin' at all
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| And yes, I built this house, I made it wrong
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| I watched it crumble, now I’m moving on
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| Now shit is rotten to the core, what a pity
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| We don’t wanna be forgotten, it’s why we write our stories on the walls of our
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| cities
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| I’d write 'em all for you if I had the time
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| In 40-foot high letters 'cause they’re important
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| It’s enough of a challenge handlin' mine, take it one day at a time
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| Treadin' water and crossin' borders
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| Next to me a baby’s cryin' for his mum as the ground’s leavin'
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| Economy class with chaos all around me
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| But I don’t even care, I’m not even there
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| Frozen in a blank stare with my headphones blaring like:
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| Don’t push me 'cause I’m
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| Close to the edge
|
| I’m tryin' not to
|
| Lose my head, a-ha-ha-ha-ha
|
| Nothin' in my pockets but a boarding pass and a passport
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| Plus an «I love you» for the friends I never asked for
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| It keeps me safe, guards me from the sickness
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| Like a pocketful of posie as I walk with the wicked
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| Talk with a quickness, never let 'em catch up
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| They wouldn’t play with you if they could see the odds was stacked up
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| So you pack it up, move it town to town
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| Gotta study how the local village people get down
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| Ridin' through the night on a tube train
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| Having revelations 'bout my place in the food chain
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| Lookin' out the window at the world whizzin' by
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| I’m determined to do something with my given time
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| And to begin with I’ma fit it in a rhyme
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| Watch us plant this forest one seed at a time
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| So shit, I spend my days hopin' but by the same token
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| We here to get our chains broken and our names spoken
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| So this is my dot on the map, my drop in the ocean
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| My patch of dirt, and I’ma make somethin'
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| Make somethin' work, make somethin' feel
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| Make somethin' hurt to make somethin' real
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| Make somethin' out of me, make a friend out of you
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| Then again, make an enemy if need be
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| So just let me be, let me rest
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| Let me sleep, let me wake
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| Let me eat, let me grow
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| Be at peace, let your guard down
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| Let me close, I’ll let you see
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| Let you know, let you near
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| Draw you in, let you hear
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| Show you things, I’ma let you in
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| Said I’ma let you in
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| Said I’ma let you in
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| Horrorshow, 2009
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| One time for your mind, said I’ma let you in
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| 'Bout to take you inside
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| «So here is us, on the raggedy edge. |
| Don’t push me, and I won’t push you.» |