| Starts of dreams, I’m able to breathe underwater
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| Someone’s daughter’s sugar, southern-weather voice
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| With Lucky Strikes, she tries to cover the smell
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| Cover the noises of his mouth
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| Blur out the planes of his face
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| Cover the noises he makes
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| There’s a man and I hate him plainly
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| Nothing fancy in how glad I watched them bury him
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| But ever since then, I can feel him all around me
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| Clawing like a crowd
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| Like the weather sucks me in and spits me out
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| Understand I am only as he made me
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| A faithful servant to all of the noise
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| All of the lights
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| All the flashing in my head
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| The sound of his mouth, loud as a crowd
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| And you’re lucky that you’re dead
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| Because clemency is tugging me
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| But I’m sorry that she’s weak
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| Because I won’t be merciful
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| Like what got you first in your throat
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| I will be real, real slow
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| Just like a wheel, turn over
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| I’m like a wheel
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| I’m like a wheel
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| I’ll be real, I’ll be real
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| I’ll turn over like a wheel |