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Can't think a straight line beyond the hill |
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It seems like a mountain |
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Next to an ocean, behind a thrill |
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Almost in my reach |
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If there's a way I could |
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Feel the face of intelligence |
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I'm a man, I would understand |
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What a good head says |
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You're no me |
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You're no me |
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You're no me |
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Can't see the forest for all |
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The green, it all gets in my way |
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Can't dig a desert without |
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The need for old religion, for holy grails |
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And a Jesus nail through the head |
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For all the pain and misguided faith |
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My mind erased before I had time |
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To waste my afternoon |
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Every thirty days a light goes on |
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And brightens my backyard |
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A yellow dying sun, I bite my tongue |
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And swallow pride and blood |
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On some other plane I have |
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Become affected, drawn and strange |
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I'm inclined to blame my mother |
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For dressing me like a girl |
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Like a girl |
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Like a girl |
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I don't know maybe that's kind of weird |
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A teenage breakdown without the will |
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Or without thinking |
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Taking low roads and colored pills |
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Always searching |
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Maybe then I would find a place in this mess |
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It swells a vein that the only things |
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That are keeping me awake |
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Are re-runs of the Mod Squad and cartoons |
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Every thirty days a light goes on |
|
And brightens my backyard |
|
A yellow dying sun, I bite my tongue |
|
And swallow pride and blood |
|
On some other plane I have |
|
Become affected, drawn and strange |
|
I'm inclined to blame my mother |
|
For dressing me like a girl |
|
Like a girl |
|
Like a girl |
|
I don't know maybe that's kind of weird |