And when the underworld's
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Best kept secrets
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Saw it's own reflection
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I knew things had finally changed
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For better or worse
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Whatever as always
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Midlife fires start to burn
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They burn down our worn protection
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I won't take pictures from their frame
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Whatever as always
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When the hands that sold me everything
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Slapped a price tag on my chest
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Bit my tongue and shut my mouth
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Tried to blend in with the rest
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But I'm a square peg
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I'm a sore thumb
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And it seems to me self apathy
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Kills the life in artistry
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{And leaves us} ankle deep in industry
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All these songs sound so damn good
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Even if their meaning's hollow
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Hollow words dry out your mouth
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You might find it hard to swallow
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All this shit that we keep feeding
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To keep ourselves and you believing
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That no money can change us
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Then a door opens up and some devil persuades us
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The songs we sung when we were just young
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Have all but lost their meaning
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But there's still a few things
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Still a few things
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Still a few things
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That we keep on believing
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Still a few things
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There's still a few things
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That we keep on believing
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Shitty music just ain't worth making
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Smiles and thank-you's just ain't worth faking
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Some assholes' hands ain't worth shaking
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And if it's not broken we need to break it
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There's no such thing as unconditional
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Though contracts bind you in the end
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Make no mistake, this is a killing ground
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Blood hungry and camouflaged as friend
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Select yes
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At the end of this mess
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If you get there and if it's your only fucking option left
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These days I don't know
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The people I'm supposed to trust
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And I don't trust these people
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That I'm supposed to know
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The handlebars on my dreams they slowly start to rust
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They'll take everything and somehow you still owe
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And as the cocaine cowboys finally get their wings
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And sell them all for blow
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These days I don't know these people that I'm supposed to trust
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And I don't trust these motherfuckers that I'm supposed to know
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These handlebars on all my dreams they slowly start to rust
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The cocaine cowboys finally get their wings
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And they sell them all for blow
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They finally get their wings and then they sell them all for blow
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I make music for myself, not for hand jobs from the upper-tier or their undeserved wealth
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Here's to their failing fucking health
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I don't mean this in a hateful way, but when the people you love start walking away
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The walls get tighter each and every day
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Take your last bite before it crumbles away
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And there's something inside me I just have to say
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Love nothing
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Trust no one
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Just live for the motherfucking day
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-----------------
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Dunsel
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Protest The Hero |