| 6:06 AM, same old ways, school bus days
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| Freezing at the bus stop again. |
| Two headphones and zero friends
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| Breathing heat on my hands, overthinking a plan
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| Where do I sit? |
| Where do I stand?
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| This tangled iPod cord is playing Lorna Shore
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| When I feel a tap on my shoulder
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| He said, what are you listening to?
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| Which I replied Accumulatory Genophage with a straight face
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| I thought it would throw you off but you asked to listen
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| And in that moment I knew you’d be different, different
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| He said yo, what the fuck is this? |
| And then we started laughing
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| Bus picked us up and then we started chatting
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| You said your name was Taylor Oxford over the music
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| I said my name was Jamie and I tried to not look stupid
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| Cause I could feel, yeah I could feel Morgan
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| Cause I could feel, yeah I could feel
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| Cause I could feel the Trigger staring at me
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| Cause I could feel her staring at me
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| From the other side of the bus
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| Cold air on my face, I had to roll my window up
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| Now all I see is an open red flannel and a short dark haircut
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| Me and Taylor stare as she’s standing right over us
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| Open red flannel and a short dark haircut
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| Lorna cuts off as she takes my iPod touch and now it’s
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| 64 whole gigs taken out my hoodie
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| 16 feral kids taking off my hoodie
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| 64 whole gigs taken out my hoodie
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| Whole bus laughing, everybody staring at me
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| I guess punks really do jump up to get beat down
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| Cause the second I got up she knocked my ass to the ground
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| And now my skinny jeans are dirty and my nose is fucked
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| And I’m still cold cause I never rolled my window up
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| Ever since that day
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| I swore I’d make them pay
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| Ever since that day
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| I swore I’d make them pay
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| Ever since that day
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| I swore I’d make them pay
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| I’ve got karma to burn. |
| You sowed it, now reap
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| An eye for an iPod. |
| Sounds fair to me
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| Just leave me alone |