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Pavlov hits me with more bad news every time I answer the phone |
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So I play and I sing and I just let it ring, |
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All day when I'm at home |
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A defacto choice of |
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Macro-microcosmic melancholy |
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But baby any way you slice it, |
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I'm thinkin' I could just as soon use the time alone |
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Yeah the goons have gone global |
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And the ceo's are shredding files |
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And the democrans and the republicrats |
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Are flashing their toothy smiles |
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And uncle tom is posing for a photo-op with the oval office klan |
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And uncle sam is riggin' cockfights in the promised land |
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And that knife you stuck in my back is still there |
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It pinches a little when I sigh and moan |
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And these days I'm thinkin I could just as soon use the time alone |
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Cause all the wrong people have the power of suggestion |
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And the freedom of the press is meaningless if nobody asks the question |
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I mean causation by definition is such a complex compilation of factors |
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That to even try to say why is to oversimplify |
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That's a far cry, isn't it dear, from acting like you're the only one there |
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Unrepentantly self-centered and unfair |
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Enter all suckers scrambling for the truth |
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Exit mr. eye-contact who took his flirt and flew the coup |
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But whatever, no matter, no fishin trips, no fishin |
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Cause momma's officially out of commission |
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And did I mention in there somewhere |
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Did I mention somewhere in there |
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That I traded babe ruth, |
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Yes I traded the only player |
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That was bigger than the game |
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And I can't even tell you why, |
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Cause you'd think I'm insane |
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And that's the truth |
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And the music industry mafia is pimping girl power |
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Sniping off sharp-shooter singles from their styrofoam towers, |
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And hip-hop is tied up in the back room with a logo stuffed in its mouth |
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Cause the master's tools will never dismantle the master's house |
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But then, I'm getting away from myself |
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As I get closer and closer home |
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And the difference between you and me baby |
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Is I get ****ed up when I'm alone |
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And I must admit today |
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That my inner pessimist seems to have gotten the best of me |
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We start out sugared up on kool aid and manifest destiny |
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And then we memorize all the presidents names like little trained monkeys |
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And we spit into the world so many spinny-eyed tv junkies |
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Incapable of unraveling the military-industrial mystery |
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Pre-emptively passified with history book history |
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And I've been around the world now and I can see this about america |
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The mind control is deep here, man |
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The myopia is steep here, man |
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And behold those who try to expose the reality |
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Really try to realize democracy |
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Are shot with rubber bullets and gassed off the streets |
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While the global power brokers are kept clean and discreet |
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Behind a wall |
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Behind a moat |
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And that is all |
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That's all |
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That's all she wrote |
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And my heart beats an s-s-s o-o-o s-s-s |
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Cause folks just really couldn't care-care-care less-less-less |
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As long as every day is superbowl sunday |
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And larger than life women in lingerie are pouting at us from every bus stop |
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She loves me, she loves me not |
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She loves me, she loves me not |
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She loves me, she loves me not |
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And 'big government should not stand between a man and his money' |
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I mean, 'what's good for business is good for the country' |
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Our children still take that lie like communion, |
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The same old line the confederacy used on the union |
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Conjugate liberty into libertarian |
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And medicated associated with deregulation privitization |
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We won't even know we're slaves on a corporate plantation |
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Somebody say hallelujah, |
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Somebody say damnation, |
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Cause the profit system follows the path of least resistance |
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And the path of least resistance is what makes the river crooked |
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Makes it serpentine |
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Capitalism is the devil's wet dream |
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So just give me my judy garland drugs and let me get back to work |
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Cause the empire state building is the tallest building in new york |
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And I have always got the feeling |
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You just like to hear it fall off your tongue |
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But I remember my name in your mouth |
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And I don't think I was done hearing it close to my ear |
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On a whisper's way to a moan |
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Pavlov hits me with more bad news every time I answer the phone |
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So I play and I sing and just let it ring, |
|
All day when I'm at home |
|
A defacto choice of |
|
Macro-microcosmic melancholy |
|
But baby any way you slice it, |
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I'm thinkin' I could just as soon use the time alone |