| I was sucking on the sorry stights
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| I was watching out for things that bite
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| I was tripping on my own two feet
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| I was feeling like I got on sleep
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| And my thoughts were getting unrestrained
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| And I was looking like Ichabod Crane
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| I was looking for some serious fun
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| Cause a bad excuse is better than none
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| Then it hits me
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| It hits me
|
| I gotta just get through it
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| And I’ll be fine
|
| Yeah, it hits me
|
| I gotta just get through these changing times
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| Oh, I was paranoid about the signs
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| They say it’s just another dangerous time
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| I don’t answer, I just decompose
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| And I’m running with a painted rose
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| I don’t relate to the things they say
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| And I don’t want to be like them today
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| I know it’s useless dumb and it’s crass
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| But I guess I’m just a real outcast
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| You could talk me into bitter sweet
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| You could grab me off the bright night street
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| You gotta keep it really tight and warm
|
| You gotta keep me laughing in the storm
|
| Well, the roads are feeling hollow and steep
|
| And I want to sew what I reap
|
| I keep forgetting what I just forgot
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| And I' don’t know if I’m ready or not |