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fightclub work |
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One...Two...One...Two |
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Know a man |
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His face seemed pulled and tense |
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Like he's ridin' on a motorbike |
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In the strongest winds |
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So I approach with tact |
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Suggest that he should relax |
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But he's always movin' much too fast |
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Said he'll see me on the flip side |
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On this trip he's taken for a ride |
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He's been takin' too much on |
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There he goes with his perfectly unkept hope |
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There he goes |
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He's yet to come back |
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But I seen his picture |
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It doesn't look the same up on the rack |
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We go way back |
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I wonder 'bout his insides |
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It's like his thoughts are too big for his size |
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He's been taken...where, I don't know |
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Off he goes with his perfectly unkept hope |
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There he goes |
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And now I rub my eyes, for he has returned |
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Seems my preconceptions are what should have been burned |
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For he still smiles... And he's still strong |
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Nothing changed but the surroundin' bullshit |
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That has grown |
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And now he's home and we're laughin' |
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Like we always did, my same old, same old friend |
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Until a quarter to ten |
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I saw the strain creep in |
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He seems distracted and I know just what is going to happen next |
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Before his first step, he's off again |
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