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The way that I feel, and what's supposed to be real strongly disagree |
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There is one thing I keep in front of me |
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Cause cash won't save, cars won't transcend the grave |
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I call everyone I know the only things of value I could ever own |
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It worries my mind knowing days of my life slowly disappear |
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Is there something that I should be doing here with my time? |
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Should I fall in line? |
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I can't chase the American Dream |
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Trading life for money never made much sense to me |
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And some may say that I'm already gone but I say, "Hey, if I'm wrong it all for living this way? I'm alright being wrong" |
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And I say, "Hey, as I slowly let possession slip away I feel I belong |
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I'm alright being wrong" |
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I try and I try to find appeal in 9 to 5, but I never win |
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Stuck in days that don't seem to begin |
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The answer I find to the question in mind |
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King of diamonds, king of hearts? One dies loved, and one is dead from the very start |
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Things like this aren't hard to resist as my mind persists allowing absolutely no interest in things that fade as fast as they accumulate |
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I refuse to bury myself that way |