| Scowling crackhead Ian
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| I can’t forget your face
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| You were a foul human being
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| way back on saint marks place
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| A white thug when we were both pour
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| A life struggling for one quarter more
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| In sixth grade that’s what you’d mug me for
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| A switch blade pressed up to my jugular
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| So I feard for my next
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| Save streats were few
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| My nerves grew recked near the second avenue
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| I soon learned how to steer clear of a crook or a crew
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| And know I’m still here
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| And look so are you
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| Forever you’ve been crackhead Ian
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| It was your kid nickname if we spoke it
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| You were an insane human being
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| Whether you ever did or didn’t really smoke it
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| I’d know that tall thin brand overstroll
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| All sun burned and grimm since ten or twelve years old
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| I guess yesterday is gone
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| Faces still intend our souls
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| An I guess both our mom’s places’re still on rent controll
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| I was that wick, small, sad, sag, punier guy
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| You was as big, tall and bad back in junior high
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| No sight of someone’s face has ever been scarrier
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| You’d come chase me from street fighter one or space harrier
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| Hello again, crackhead Ian
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| I still can’t forget your foul face
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| My fellow human being
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| I know we’re both still planted on saint-marks place
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| We’ve lived our pour lifes in close parallel
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| Within this four or five blocks we both know so well
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| You must have grew up near the former theater or old groce hotel
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| I’m sure you’re aware of me here
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| But oh I can’t tell
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| It seems you never outgrew your little greedy enrage
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| I still see you look so mean though now we are middle-aged
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| I was used dropping last year at you loughing to tell
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| About bashing some dude with a chair till he fell
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| I slipped fast by you talking fear in our eyes would touch
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| Drifting past by new mornings that it all changed so much
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| I’ve never known your live story sure it’s rotten and though
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| But hoe long before these roles for us have gotten old enough
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| You must’ve had it so rough kid
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| Well I wonder
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| Forged by a tiny portion of love or fortune
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| Goes lightning or goes thunder
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| You’re a bad one crackhead Ian
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| A sad son and sun burned big
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| But of all the best kids seen downtown in our pre-team
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| It’s just you and me left I think
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| How long till you notice
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| How long untill you shake my hand
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| How long untill we’re old man-neighbours
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| Last tribe’s man of the vanished plant
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| We never even did exchange names
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| You were an evil kid from the 80's
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| When we played these arcade games
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| That made life grate in the 80's
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| Me and Ian
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| Me and Ian
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| Ryding into the night of an east-village dream with these games in the street
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| and the head and… |