| As the sound bounds in the street
|
| And you settle down to your back seat
|
| And the movement seems to be
|
| And all the jokes that you use to poke
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| At all the dopes you were once seen with
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| And every word that you had ??
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| Was looking up to you for a reason
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| And you joke at all the words that you spoke
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| And you say hey man I was only teasing
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| And the rhyme is no longer in time
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| And all the words are not the words you been needin'
|
| Well your not alone, you can feel right at home
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| You’ve been fully wronged, into position
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| Its the nature of the race, in an old type of place ??
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| Cause they’ll spit in your face in their conditioned
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| And now you think to yourself, what is left for tomorrow
|
| And it seems kinda strange, there’s nothing left to gain
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| And nothing left to borrow
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| And the mistake your about to make
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| Will be the final take of your sorrow |