| If I find my way back home, I’ll say, «What am I doing here?»
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| We have made our camp, but not settled
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| Nothing can touch us here
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| We took the van one night
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| The three of us, contraband and our bikes
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| The city was left behind
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| Our own vacation, our own weekend
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| Our own fear and loathing except on Cape Cod
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| At two in the morning when my body’s not attached to my head
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| We got on our bikes and rode
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| My legs like Jello when we rode that night
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| Hot livers and cold purse
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| The day was going everywhere in a hurry
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| Instead of nowhere fast
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| Take a pill, do substances, have a drink
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| Recreational drug use to drive golf balls
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| It’s the most comfortable and uncomfortable place
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| The discomfort is not in a bad way
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| No, not in a bad way
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| Don’t make me go home
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| My own chocolate heart
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| Look at your scales, your head is on all wrong
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| I’ve got monsters on my brain
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| A towel on his head after jumping off the pier
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| Rama said I looked like a Kennedy
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| And Ryan’s taking pictures
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| And flattery doesn’t make sense in our state
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| We had to make our own fear and loathing on Cape Cod |