| I’m lookin' for a sign and it ain’t coming, I’m cuttin' ties
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| My days disappear in clouds, I stay blunted
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| Doctors orders, focus on what’s important
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| Keep the profile low as I cross the border
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| Mr Sol to the O, just a day in a life
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| Got me all dressed up with nowhere to go
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| Oh well, lonely nights living out a hotel
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| Scheming on the prize, piece of mind like a nobel
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| In the meantime, I’m tryna travel light
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| Less weight to carry like you gotta pick your battles right
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| The best defense, I’m on the attack, under
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| False pretense I wanna react, holding me back
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| Till my chest tighter than my grip
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| I might do better if I just let it slip
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| Hot blood up against cold steel
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| Careful how you wield or you might be the one to feel
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| Make no mistake
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| Anger is a curved blade
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| You can get cut in the worst way
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| 'Cause you were better off in the first place
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| If you grip it too tight
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| Might wind up with a burst vein
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| And that’s real, be careful how you wield
|
| Or you might be the one to feel
|
| Make no mistake, anger is a curved blade
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| You can get cut in the worst way
|
| 'Cause you were better off in the first place
|
| If you grip it too tight
|
| Might wind up with a burst vein
|
| And that’s real, be careful how you wield
|
| Or you might be the one to feel
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| Hey sucker, I’d have wished you the worst
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| Wish you’d have tripped, put my fist in your words
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| Rip you to pieces, shredded to a blur
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| Fall like confetti, a shadow of whatever you were
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| Closed the door like «do not disturb»
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| Reduce your whole book to a blurb
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| As far as I’m concerned, let the pages burn
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| Let the tears confirm that your career’s adjourned
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| And I just set my mind to your downfall
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| Like it’s somehow set our watches
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| And preoccupied my time with your misfortune
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| Till it’d become unconscious
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| Followed my compass to schadenfreude but cold comfort
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| Called back, 'cause when you fell I just fell flat
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| So go for yours, I’ll go for mine, ha
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| To wish you ill is just a waste of my time
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| We hit the ground, about to be goin' our separate ways
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| I can feel us slowing down, dems the brakes
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| We exit the plane
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| When there’s nothing left to say that hasn’t been said
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| So I’m saying goodbye, that’s it, I jet
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| Now I’m a Sunday Gentleman with a pen in my hand
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| Never thought much about that exit plan
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| For all the resentment that I let get in the way
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| Here I am as I stand, still a wannabe Hemingway
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| Tryin' to make every page better than the last
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| Same way I live life try and let go of the past
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| Fuck a double edge blade I’m tryna keep the pen mighty
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| Up all night, too tired to keep fighting
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| Doctor’s orders, more bottles of water
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| What kind of dad would you wanna be for your daughter?
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| The soberin' thought of war, what is it good for?
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| As if they force my hand
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| To draw blood with this blade
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| Until I’m falling on my own sword, sure
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| And who’s that gonna save?
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| Make no mistake
|
| Anger is a curved blade
|
| You can get cut in the worst way
|
| 'Cause you were better off in the first place
|
| If you grip it too tight
|
| Might wind up with a burst vein
|
| And that’s real, be careful how you wield
|
| Or you might be the one to feel
|
| Make no mistake
|
| Anger is a curved blade
|
| You can get cut in the worst way
|
| 'Cause you were better off in the first place
|
| If you grip it too tight
|
| Might wind up with a burst vein
|
| And that’s real, be careful how you wield
|
| Or you might be the one to feel |