| On the freeway
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| The traffic fixed in front of me Like a still-life
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| I don’t want to survive
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| I can’t stay in between the lines
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| With my hands held just so I watch the sky and a silent race
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| As fast as you can go I forgot there was such a thing
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| As good people left
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| Can’t you just save my life?
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| I got a fresh screwdriver
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| Right before closing time
|
| I got a fresh screwdriver
|
| Right before closing time
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| A quote from the architect
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| That designed the slums
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| Said, «Beauty just don’t matter
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| It’s a function of form»
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| I said, «Yes, you’re right, you’re right
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| You must be right
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| Your truth is part of a bigger lie
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| That sews our lives up tight.»
|
| And I forgot there was such a thing
|
| As good people left
|
| Can’t you just save my life?
|
| I got a fresh screwdriver
|
| Right before closing time
|
| I got a fresh screwdriver
|
| Right before closing time
|
| Set me up For my last breath
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| I watch you wave your hands over a top hat
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| Boring me to death
|
| I got a fresh screwdriver
|
| Right before closing time
|
| I got a fresh screwdriver
|
| So what if I’m dying?
|
| I got a fresh screwdriver
|
| Right before closing time |