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The Shins |
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Miscellaneous |
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Phantom Limb |
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Foals in Winter coats, |
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White girls of the North, |
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File past one, five and one, |
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They are the fabled lambs, |
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of Sunday ham, |
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The EHS norm. |
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And they can float above the class, |
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In circles if they tried, |
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A latent power I know they hide, |
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To keep some hope alive, |
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That a girl like I could ever try, |
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Could ever try. |
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So we just skirt the hallway signs, |
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A phantom and then A fly, |
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And Follow the lines and wonder why |
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There's no connection. |
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A week of rolling eyes, |
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amd cheap shots from the tribe, |
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And we're off to Nemarotca's porch again, |
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Another afternoon with the goat-head tunes, |
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And pilfered booze. |
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We wandered through her mama's house, |
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And the milk from the window lights, |
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Family portrait circa ninety-five, |
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This is that foreign land, |
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With the sprayed on tans, |
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And it all feels fine, |
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Be it silk or slime, |
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So, when they tap our Monday heads, |
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Two zombies walk in our stead, |
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This town seems hardly worth our time, |
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And we'll no longer memorize or rhyme, |
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Too far along in our crime, |
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Stepping over what now towers to the sky, |
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With no connection. |
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oooh woah oh woah oh Repeated 4x's(chorus) |
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So, when they tap our Sunday heads, |
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Two zombies walk in our stead, |
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This town seems hardly worth our time, |
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And we'll no longer memorize or rhyme, |
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Too far along in our crime, |
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Stepping over what now towers to the sky, |
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With no connection. |
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oooh woah oh woah oh(chorus repeated till fade out) |