| I checked in a room today
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| Up above the downtown market bricks
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| Right now a boy gets old
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| A boy gets bitter, a boy learns not to trust
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| Someone inside his room
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| The door locks tight, you keep the door locked
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| Months went by and doors got kicked in
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| Two outlaws collecting what they loaned
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| In a room beside my walls
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| A girl gets choked, she can’t pay back the loan
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| 48 more hours to go
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| «48 more hours,» that’s all they say
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| In two more nights, I hear
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| A sound, a shrill from one thin wall away
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| Every place is the same
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| Every day is the same
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| Every place is the same
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| Violent
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| There’s a conflicting sound
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| Hear the arguments loud
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| Every day, the sounds of the
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| Violent, violent, violent
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| I moved uptown a bit
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| Not much changed, conflict is never gone
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| But just as a calm sets in
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| A police line barricades a place next door
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| I asked around the lot
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| A store clerk told me two young kids were shot
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| Mother was near the tracks
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| Dragged to where a train would go past |