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Steam rising and spiraling then vanish in the wind |
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I cant tell where the land ends and the sky begins |
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Are you acquainted with the threat of being killed? |
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Or are you conversing with pigeons on the windowsill? |
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Every battle has been fought |
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And everything I think was thought |
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Down we, down we've descended |
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Every day keeps getting shorter |
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As my sleeves start getting longer |
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And the sidewalks overflow |
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So we patronize pedestrians |
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With no sense of direction |
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When you're lost and can't ask a question |
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Steam rising and spiraling then vanish in the wind |
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I cant tell where the land ends and the sky begins |
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This city truly is assaulting my senses |
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Unkempt, unruly, devour, defenseless |
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Occupant. If Poverty builds up character, |
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And spoils breed arrogance, |
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I'd rather consort with the low and the decadent |
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Every battle has been fought |
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And everything I think was thought |
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Down we, down we've descended |
|
Every day keeps getting shorter |
|
As my sleeves start getting longer |
|
And the sidewalks overflow |
|
So we patronize pedestrians |
|
With no sense of direction |
|
When you're lost and can't ask a question |
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You'd better have the strength |
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Of the wandering aimless |
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With an audience |
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Of the most prestigious |
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Do you have to strain |
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To love the one you came with? |
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I hope you have the strength |
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Because we're in the belly of... |
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Every battle has been fought |
|
And everything I think was thought |
|
Down we, down we've descended |
|
Every day keeps getting shorter |
|
As my sleeves start getting longer |
|
And the sidewalks overflow |
|
So we patronize pedestrians |
|
With no sense of direction |
|
When you're lost and can't ask a question |