| this she did in public for us to see
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| she came in here too drunk to do the show
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| between the trains and cars
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| broken glass and lost hub-caps, images of a gun
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| row house row house pass through
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| let the city rise up to fill the screen
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| clothes flung out of closets, doorknobs falling off
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| the guitar guy played real good feedback, and super sounding riffs
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| with his mild mannered look on, yeah he was truly hip
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| the girl started out in red patent leather
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| very I’m in a band with knee pads
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| we watch her fall over and lay down,
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| shouting the poetic truths of high school journal keepers
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| row house row house pass through, let the city rise up twister, dust buster, hospital bed, I’ll see you, see you
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| see you on the highway
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| now we’re told so merge ideas, of song forms and freedom
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| miss seafood, miss cheesecake, a couple of miss donuts
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| the edge of a blade pressed to the throat of your reflected image
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| poised, yet totally screwed up yes sir, yes sir, step right up none of us know, where we’re trying to get to what sort of live where we trying to build
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| now we’re told so merge ideas, of song forms and freedom
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| seasons out of life, nothing is out of reach
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| L.A. is more confusing now, than anywhere I’ve ever been to
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| I’m from New York City, breath it out and let it in where are you now?
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| when your broken eyes are closed
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| head in a cloudy dream, green and sailboats
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| borrowed and never returned
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| emotions, books, outlooks on life
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| hello 20 15!
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| hello, 20, 15! |