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Vicious circle's got me down |
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Days turn into weeks of hanging out |
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Got to shake these soup kitchen blues |
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Growing tired of barley cabbage stew |
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And there being nothing |
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Nothing new to do |
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Dumb and hungry, we make our way |
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For free refueling |
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Like an alarm clock, our minds know the times |
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We plan our lives around the lines |
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Twelve p.m. At the soup kitchen |
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Talking politics with the bag men |
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Forced into their conversations |
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Pessimistic contemplations |
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They tell me of their heart conditions |
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Share with me their D.T. Visions |
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Damn me with that bad outlook |
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Or save me with that "good book" |
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Vicious circle's got me down |
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Days turn into weeks of hanging out |
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Got to shake these Haight-Ashbury blues |
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Growing tired of the Kezar Stadium cruise |
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And there being nothing |
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Nothing new to do |
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Just make the midday pilgrimage |
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We travel far and wide |
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Going to the soup kitchen |
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To swallow some more pride |