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we are only young |
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but we style our future with a cattle gun |
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we are idle rich |
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so we smile for tomorrow with a bitch of an itch |
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cause when the firelight shocks like a cop shop pyre |
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well jack the politics for premonition and fire |
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and well move like nuryev at night |
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coast to coast |
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side to side |
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shines the light of fine enlightened minds |
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coast to coast |
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we are only young |
|
but we style out future in the shadow of guns |
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we are not idle rich |
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so we smile for tomorrow with a bitch of an itch |
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cause when the stylized kick of the filmstar whip, |
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cracks down on the millions, |
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cracks the kids on the hips |
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well be moving like nuryev at night |
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coast to coast |
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side to side |
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shines the light of fine enlightened minds |
|
coast to coast |
|
side to side |
|
feel the steel that shines outside the blinds |
|
coast to coast |
|
side to side |
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blades engraved with babies names |
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while pylons hide the suicide |
|
coast to coast |
|
side to side |
|
shines the light of fine enlightened minds |
|
coast to coast |
|
side to side |
|
feel the steel that shines outside the blinds |
|
coast to coast |
|
side to side |
|
blades engraved with babies names... |
|
while pylons hide the suicides |