| This is California, found a room to rent
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| A pool party, drug induced, with friends that heaven sent
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| You can see our baggage on the diving board
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| Mine looks like the dad and son splashing back and forth
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| Hope is where it started so a «fuck off» to fateful ends
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| We’re landing on over complication or oblivion
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| There’s more forgiveness lower down our necks, yeah
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| You can strum your hardest and get away with hoping for the best
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| Hold me down for an hour or two
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| I’ll paint your face on a blood balloon
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| And you won’t know if you believe
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| In something more than the belief
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| A future investment in the future’s con
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| I guess everyone is part perfect storm and part broken song
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| So to those who can’t afford bronchitis ya' settle for a cough
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| Afraid of where you’re going so you purposely stay lost
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| Hold me down for an hour or two
|
| I’ll paint your face on a blood balloon
|
| And you won’t know if you believe
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| In something more than the belief
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| There’s no belief in simply being
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| There’s no belief in simply being
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| This ain’t California (This ain’t California)
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| This ain’t California (This ain’t California)
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| It’s simply me!
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| Romanticize the past while the future is in full collapse
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| You can
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| Hold me down for an hour or two
|
| I’ll paint your face on a blood balloon
|
| And you won’t know if you believe
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| In something more than the belief |