get up son hit you head like a drum
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weeds are all grown in vain
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too much time I got too much time
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living in a waste of space
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take yourself don't break yourself
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its all gonna be ok
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get used to it don't lose your head
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its all gonna be the same
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she knows send a message to her
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she knows get a message to her
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kill it dead but don't let it die there's a price sitting on your head
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face it down don't turn it around
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unless you wanna be where you been
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take yourself don't break yourself
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its all gonna be ok
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get used to it don't lose your head
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its all gonna be the same
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she knows send a massage to her
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she knows get a massage to her
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spell out her name in cigarettes and knives tryin to see her
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get her a massage on a dirty window tryin to see her
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I've been stripping the days off the sidewark and pavement
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the walls are all white and we're painting them whiter for the zig zag manline my radio's plastic and I've tasted the fodder of a saccharine ending
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day job pay phone one in a trillion and the typecast heathen with the future all rancid
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something to believe
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something to believe
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Send A Message To Her
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Beck |