| I stomp the tiny earth
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| A wraith of perfect symmetry
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| Just feeding off the energy
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| Of posturing imposter culture
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| Digest and turn the baby bird of my ambition
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| To an act of pure sedition
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| Fecal fauna on a floral altar
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| Taking a bath on a trip (losing)
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| And loving the ones you are with (using up)
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| Make no mistake, the road to my dimension
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| Wasn’t paved with good intentions
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| But with grave animosity
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| With a demeanor cast as sweet as Russell Stover
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| Counting crows I’m lording over
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| I might quell my own monstrosity
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| Through only belief
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| I’m finally able to breathe
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| Devotion is keeping me clear
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| I’m far more happy than I might appear
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| Thanks to my medicine, the anti-pathogen
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| I am whole
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| Fill the mollusk’s mouth inside my soul
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| I’m switching seats with smarter kids
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| Repairing damage others did
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| And when it’s your turn
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| I’ll help you brace yourself for this
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| I’ve learned to gain a measured peace through the pain
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| Not illusions that I’m not alone
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| With iron will, the spectre stalking me still
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| The illusion that I’m not alone
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| This part coming up
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| Is legal through use of parody law
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| A master indeed
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| Of puppets, like Muppets and Sesame Street |