| The wingspan of my exploits is vast as the sea
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| Familiar commencement, familiar routine
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| As my Mother lay dying, my Father would scream
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| «Son, do you dream the American dream?»
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| Oh no, not me
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| Not on your life
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| I’m gonna live on the edge of a knife
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| And prey on the fools who should handle it timidly
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| You had your big dreams and planted a seed
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| You wanted a flower, but turned out a weed
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| My petals will curl and fall to the ground
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| You’ll whisper my name and you’ll spread me around
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| And as you grow in my supposed image
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| You won’t inherit the truth of how I feel
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| You’ll just assume that it’s real
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| Father, forgive me
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| For I do not know not what I do
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| Father, if I could, I’d chose to be like you
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| Forget this fucking face
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| Forget you ever saw it
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| Empty your pockets, your keys and your wallet
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| A mere $ 50, my life was delayed
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| Locked up and shut down for more than a decade
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| And so I sew my seed, year after year
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| I’ll be the meanest bastard you’ve ever seen when I get out of here
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| And so I sew my seed, year after year
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| I’ll be the meanest bastard you’ve ever seen when I get out of here
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| Freedom is incarceration by a different name
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| I’m free to walk the streets, but I’m financially detained
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| And so I sew my seed, year after year
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| I’ll be the meanest bastard when I get out of here
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| There’s nowhere left to turn, there’s nowhere left to run
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| So I’ll take what I’m owed or I’ll eat this fucking gun
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| And so I sew my seed, year after year
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| I’ll be the meanest bastard you’ve ever seen when I get out of here
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| You had your big dreams and planted a seed
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| You wanted a flower, but turned out a weed
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| My petals will curl and fall to the ground
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| You’ll whisper my name and you’ll spread me around
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| On the wings of the wind, to the end of the earth
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| My legend will grow as my story gives birth
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| To a new generation of violent offenders
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| Who worship my memory
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| Hyperbolize my splendor
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| And as you grow in my supposed image
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| (And as you grow in my supposed image)
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| You won’t inherit the truth of how I feel
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| (You won’t inherit the truth of how I feel)
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| And as you grow in my supposed image
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| (And as you grow in my supposed image)
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| You’ll piss away your precious, fleeting youth
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| Assuming you know the truth
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| Assuming you know the truth |