| Rain King ensures there’s nowhere to go
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| It’s jet stream, daydream, cocksure hard luck show
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| His lips a fountain
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| His daylight sparks
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| He’s a shotgun, schoolyard, street-wise, white-hot kid
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| Little whipcream, phone call, breakdown, Rain King fist
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| His mind a countdown
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| His daydream sparks
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| I need three years to clear these thoughts, hey
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| I like to say I knew one true thing
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| It feels like years and all I’ve done is fought
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| And not turned up, anything
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| Little black, take roll and roll, over my bed
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| I’m waiting here for, some reality crease
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| There’s one big deadend, in my head
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| And not a moment of peace
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| Crossfire, Rain King, with his cadillac, kid
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| Marries every dictionary from his chain-yard bliss
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| His lips a fountain
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| His daylight sparks
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| He’s got a shot in his kick forging the real, when
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| He’s a steel drum, wedding ring, Pontiac door knob ten
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| His mind a countdown
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| His daylight sparks
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| Hung up on a speed king nation, caught up on a nail
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| Hanging tight with time, at least, a little while
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| Your sister is a beauty when she’s naked, like my kid
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| I hear this world, cool world, dreaming of a peaceful kiss |