| Blood on my pick-ups, the barman’s a stick up
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| They take the money and we just get to play
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| Well that’s okay, so long as you know it’s just a swap
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| The world doesn’t like you, but they’d like to see you off
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| And I got to go now, hoped I was mistaken
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| But I’m stone-laden, waiting all day long
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| It doesn’t make you worthier, it doesn’t make you rich
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| And people praise you thick and thin just like a fickle bitch
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| And that’s a ditch if you listen to it
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| You think yourself amazing all the time you’re falling in
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| And while you’re waiting, head and hearts a-blazing
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| I’m still waiting, praying, all day long
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| Think of a caption, inscription on your grave
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| You say it’s for cartoons and I say that’s the same
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| It’s a nasty joke and if you don’t laugh you choke
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| They’ll throw you in the deep end and if you don’t swim a stroke
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| Then do what I do, keep the dream floating
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| With hoping, groping, smoking all day long |