| There’s orange and yellow on the paintbrush
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| It’s sort of mellow, but the same rush
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| I taste the ocean on my taste buds
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| But I can make a poem with the same tongue
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| O-range all around, Cobain stompin' ground
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| No rain’s fallen down, old flames all 'a drown
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| I’m allowed a few low day fallin' outs
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| Mourning a man that my gold chain honors now
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| Mellow Yello’s got the blues
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| I’m green with all this envy, cause this fellow got marooned
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| I’ve read all the white lies left in the twilight
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| Purrs-pulled from kitties who bellow at the moon
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| So I choose, to keep a tangerine with the tambourine
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| Apathy is absentee ballot when I crack a cheese
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| Smile, there’s no masterpiece styled
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| In an afternoon, I have to use the Stanley Kub
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| There’s no Full Metal Jacket
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| It’s quite right enough to hide my own kettle’s blackness
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| A low-level blacksmith, so orange it’s clockwork
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| And there’s no choice but onward
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| Yeah, he said whatever takes the weight off
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| Raindrops drive you crazy if they hit the same spot
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| So I go opposite of still
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| When I’m feeling blue until the opposites reveal that I’m orange
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| All of it is a dream
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| I make it up, but it’s real
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| All of it is a dream
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| Want you to see
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| I want to believe
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| All of it is a dream
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| I make it up, but it’s real
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| All of it is a dream
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| I want you to see, I want to believe
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| I wanna believe
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| There’s orange and yellow in my eyelids
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| It’s sort of mellow, but I like it
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| So bright and vibrant I might go blind
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| If I don’t adjust to my climate
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| Mount Olympus, I’ll climb it
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| No Sisyphus exists in my mindset
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| Mind set to detonate if
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| I step incorrect, expressin' my violets
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| Purple Haze and some Kurt Cobain
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| Got me doing flips like it’s Cirque Soleil
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| Slow-motion at a turtle’s pace
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| I’m so Punxsutawney Phil when I’m still in a recurrin' state
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| And each day is the same as the last one
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| Fatal attraction, waves to a captain
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| O-range turned grey from my atoms
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| And threw it to the skies above, April showers |