| So here we are now, guitars and drums
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| High and lowdown just some Dharma bums
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| Gate mouth would tell you rehearsal’s overrated
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| Baptists will tell you it’s all predestinated
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| Between the devil and God, between the first breath and last
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| Somewhere under heaven with no future and a hell of a past
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| We in the mud and scum of things, moaning, crying, lying
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| At least we ain’t Lazarus and had to think twice about dying
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| At least we ain’t Lazarus and had to think twice about dying
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| So here we are now, still preceding grace
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| We ain’t easy to look at and keep a straight face
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| Inspired by Rimbaud ain’t angelic
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| Influenced by the dead, just gets you psychedelic
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| So here we are now kinda like abandoned dogs
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| Wrapped up in Gunnysacks and singing cast iron songs
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| We’re weird old America, we’re grinning with sharp teeth
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| We’re beautiful on the surface and rotten underneath |