| It’s like a tidal wave inside my brain eroding every thought away
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| Blindfolded, I try spear gun down my own tail of blame
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| Intelligentsia, mediums, media, cameras with heat-seeking wit
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| These couches are like butter to their little bullets
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| So relax before you sit down near the outlet on the wall
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| This is the one-shot America
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| Let the signs decide the wrong and right
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| Drop some shells tonight and sort the rubble in the morning
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| Along the coastline
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| We are, we are, we are the undertow
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| My nose and lungs burn through as I gently slip below
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| Millions of tiny bubbles of perspective half-support my body
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| An image, our future, I feel this and I’m sinking in
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| This broadcast states exactly how my current flows
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| A scurvy ridden rat on just a chunk of wood
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| These sharks control the stage, bottomless prey and
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| Everybody’s bleeding, frenzies eating
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| The floodwaters lap at our ceilings
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| We are, we are, we are the undertow
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| My nose and lungs burn through as I gently slip below
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| Let the search begin
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| The tide is high and the bends are kicking in,
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| No movement
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| These legs and arms are numb
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| Waterlogged and sun burnt, bloated and belly up now
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| My eyes are bleeding
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| Oh no, oh no, oh no!
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| I dove right in
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| I said my peace
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| Hypocritical me |