| Every sick, fickle fucker
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| Childhood’s what makes ya
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| Till they treat ya like tundra
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| Weigh those opinions
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| More like air than lead
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| Every planned occupation
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| Surefire disappointment up ahead
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| Till they treat ya like desert
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| See mirages of friendship, face turns read
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| Here’s the soon to be anchor
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| Build bridges to nothing, you’ll get nowhere
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| Every governor’s mother knows
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| That their bread is buttered by Sam
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| And what about science?
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| they find proof and let you make your own decisions
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| Every childstar wonders
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| If they have a future up ahead
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| Every kindhearted banker
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| I don’t think there is one
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| Every winning opinion
|
| Stand on platforms in water
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| Filling jars full of silence you’ll get nowhere |