It's a bit like a trip, but you hit it with a slip of a tongue, like a whip, and we're sinking, it ain't
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cool to be cool, though you may think it a laudable tool of self evaluation, of ego cultivation, n' I'm
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rolling my eyes like the stones for the lies, is it really all about the size or just a simple vice...
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Oh, and it makes the news
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Oh, cos it sings the blues
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I feel the fire flare alight inside me
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Higher so I can see
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N' aspire to survive this fight in spite of
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Liars and travesty
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Oh fire
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Did you think that I'd blink, that I'd go and take the ink to your control, that I'd sell my soul, and
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does it ring any bells that it sells that we're living out of shells in a shotgun, if we couldn't shoot,
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we'd have to run, and finally the cerebral fantasy, better genes and machines, so we can die looking like
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we're teens, like snapshot scenes in smithereens...
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Oh, and the ones we choose
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Oh, witch hunting fools
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I feel the fire...
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Look there it is in the news again, yeah
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There it goes singing the blues again
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Fire flare alight inside me...
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Fire, return my joy cos I'm so
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Tired, tired of me
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Inspire the weary eyed to see the
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Ire and Irony
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Oh fire
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Fire
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Poets Of The Fall |