| I talk like it hurts to talk, mascot of Murphy’s Law
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| From the claw game at the Walt Whitman mall
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| To the worst curb-cuts of the urban sprawl
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| To what stirs in the purple moss
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| Which world make a perp' less scurred of his quirks and flaws
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| Or make it okay to learn who you are no jury
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| Instead of all insecurity, no mercy
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| Every year his skin get thinner
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| You could almost see the Abilify in his innards
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| If it’s into the blood or back up through the gizzard
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| With a little bit of last night’s dinner, liver
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| Standby for the van by the river
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| Built ramps in the summer, tanned hides in the winter, anti-winner
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| Stare at the stars from an empire builder to anywhere far
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| Live from an empire builder
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| Empire builder
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| Live from an empire builder
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| Wildfire in the wilder'
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| Live from an empire builder
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| Empire builder
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| Live from an empire builder
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| I shake my fist at the very same gate
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| That I would’ve climbed up before I became lame
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| Now I just curse and pretend it’s the same
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| Curse at a person who ain’t do a thing
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| When everyone around you is surfing a wave
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| You a singular jerk in a circle of saints
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| Never mistook for a bird or a plane
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| Mistook for a hearse in the rain
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| Germ in a wound
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| Bit a few heads off a Hydra
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| Deadbeat friends in the lens of his Leica, yikes
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| When a stink-eye turn fire into ice
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| I would rather die on spikes
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| Before you ever take to a colony
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| Take note of your escape velocity
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| And watch odd folk not care who you are
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| From an empire builder to anywhere far
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| Live from an empire builder
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| Empire builder
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| Live from an empire builder
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| Hi-ho silver
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| Live from an empire builder
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| Empire builder
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| Live from an empire builder
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| Sultan of sublimation
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| Have you ever seen such evasion?
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| Work 'til he well-done bacon or borderline burnt
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| The certified temper ensure a wide berth
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| Night king, wild Earth, bite a hand with the serum
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| His old man haunt him, his own fam' fear him
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| His cold, bad hands are attached to a breathing meat
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| That learned to roll weed with its feet
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| Do not make me turn this car around
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| No sleep 'til the bars of Barbertown
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| Bar-Kays bump through a claw marked Arkham
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| Bars on the window, barbs in the jargon
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| Black armband, offsides on guard
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| Dark art marksman, march through the heartland
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| Dream of a chair in a yard
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| From an empire builder to anywhere far
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| Live from an empire builder
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| Empire builder
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| Live from an empire builder
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| High-pass filter
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| Live from an empire builder
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| Empire builder
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| Live from an empire builder |