| Your Ethos
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| Your Pathos
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| Your Porthos
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| Your Aramis
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| Your Brut Cologne
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| You’re writing home
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| You are hopeless
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| Your hopelessness
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| Is rising around you, rising around you
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| You like it
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| It gives you something to do
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| In the day time
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| Hey buddy, you need a hobby
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| You are tired of moving forward
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| You think of the future
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| And secretly you piddle your pants
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| The puddle of piddle
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| Which used to be little
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| Is rising around you, rising around you
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| You like it
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| It gives you something to do
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| In the night time
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| Well, you travel to bars
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| You also go to Winchell’s Doughnuts
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| And hang out with the Highway Patrol
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| Sometimes you’ll go to a pizza place
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| You go toSharkey’s to get that
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| American kind of pizza
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| That has the ugly, waxey, fake yellow kind
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| Of yellow Cheese on the top…
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| Then you go to Straw Hat Pizza,
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| To get all of those artificial ingredients
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| That never belonged on a pizza in the first place
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| (But the white people really like it…)
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| Oh well, you’ll go anyplace, you’ll do anything
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| Oh you’ll give me your underpants
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| I hope these aren’t yours, buddy…
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| They’re very nice, though
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| You’ll go to Santa Monica Boulevard,
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| You’ll go to the Blue Parrot
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| No problem, you’ll go anyplace
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| You’ll do anything
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| Just so you can hang out with the others
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| The others just like you
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| Afraid of the future
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| (Death Valley Days, straight ahead)
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| The future is scary
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| Yes, it sure is
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| Well, the puddle is rising
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| It smells like the ocean
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| A body of water to isolate England
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| And also Reseda
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| The oil, in patches
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| All over Atlantis, Atlantis
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| You remember Atlantis
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| Donovan, the guy with the brocade coat,
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| Used to sing to you about Atlantis
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| You loved it, you were so involved then
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| That was back in the days when you used to
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| Smoke a banana
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| You would scrape the stuff off the middle
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| You would smoke it
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| You even thought you was getting ripped from it
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| No problem
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| Ah Atlantis, they could really get down there
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| The plankton, the krill
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| The giant underwater pyramid, the squid decor
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| Excuse me. | 
| Todd
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| The big ol' giant underwater door
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| The dome, the bubbles, the blue light
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| Light, light, light, light
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| Blue light blue light
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| The seepage, the sewage, the rubbers, the napkins
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| Your ethos, your pathos
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| Your flag hole, your port-hole
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| Your language
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| You’re frightened
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| Your future
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| You can’t even speak your own fucking language
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| You can’t read it anymore
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| You can’t write it anymore
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| Your language
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| The future of your language
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| Your meat loaf
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| Don’t let your meat loaf
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| Heh, Heh, Heh
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| Your Micro-Nanette
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| Your Brut
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| Cologne |