| I’m a work in progress
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| I might just work forever
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| I know the sun is shining behind this cloudy weather
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| And I, I’m not perfect
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| But I’m, I’m getting better
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| I’m a work in progress, I might just work forever
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| I don’t know
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| I can’t help but feel like I’m destined to do this but I’m in my way
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| I’m working it, working it, working it, working it every day
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| I chiseled the sculpture, I take a look at it, that ain’t how I planned it
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| I might need to switch my perspective and view from a whole 'nother vantage
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| Cause some of the things you could say about me would be true, and be
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| disparaging
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| I hope I don’t leave none of those traits to my daughters when I die in their
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| inheritance
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| I’m a bright spark in a dark room, I’ll persevere, that’s how I’m built
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| I won’t wait, I will work till I’m great, I made more mistakes than my grammy
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| made quilts
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| I am part one, wait for part two
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| Got my leg in the door in '04 from my dreaming, was screaming «somebody record
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| me»
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| I promise I will be dope when I’m forty
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| Now I got my whole body in the room, bitch
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| Sorry I called you a bitch
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| I get excited, I’m talking my shit
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| I feel like Kanye but white and not rich
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| I am a desk full of stuff, stacked
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| Agressive, a muskrat
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| I will stretch, I will touch, tap
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| I’m a sketch, I’m a rough draft
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| But I’m wide awake, and I’m tossing and turning
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| And I can’t sleep at times
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| Got my family on my mind
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| And I’m gon' work until they never have to work no more
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| I don’t know what to think, they put out a tape every month
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| Maybe it’s them, or maybe it’s me, or maybe I don’t write enough
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| But when you only write what you feel
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| Sometimes it kinda gets tough
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| Cause the world is moving so fast
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| And I’m not feeling so young
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| I was just a kid, say 17, and I entered in a new world, never had a plan
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| Face bare, so was the planner, saw my old man pimp himself out the truck for
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| not enough bucks
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| He said, «Son, it’s gonna be tough, at least I gave you a work ethic and some
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| manners»
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| Maybe got the manners from my mother, now I gotta fill the cupboards when you
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| hammer for the supper
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| They told me we work in the cold and the snow and the rain, welcome to Maine
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| Fresh out of grade twelve, not getting paid well, walking on eggshells
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| Eight years later, couple tapes and a record
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| Between being on the road and being up at the same time that I’m getting home
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| It feels like I work forever
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| Young, good, gotta do better
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| Two little dudes like a mirror made of pressure
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| I could never ever give the minimal of effort
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| I know she got me, rich, broke or whatever
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| I consider it never, I’d rather have less than a drip in the desert
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| Did not ever stitch in the dresser, or listen to Ke$ha
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| I work when I’m sick and I’m hurt till I’m better
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| Cause money is money, you can’t never make enough and can’t pay attention to
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| them, they saying nothing
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| If they not down unless something big comes around, then there’s nothing up for
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| discussion
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| That’s everybody, me included, I’m turning up, like the heat’s included
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| They’re complaining about no savings to make these payments but still I’m
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| changing
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| I’m a work in progress
|
| I might just work forever
|
| I know the sun is shining behind this cloudy weather
|
| And I, I’m not perfect
|
| But I’m, I’m getting better
|
| I’m a work in progress, I might just work forever
|
| I don’t know
|
| I can’t help but feel like I’m destined to do this but I’m in my way
|
| I’m working it, working it, working it, working it every day
|
| I chiseled the sculpture, I take a look at it, that ain’t how I planned it
|
| I might need to switch my perspective and view from a whole 'nother vantage |