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The morning I set sail on a whalebone |
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the gale. force winds made the sky grow |
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and I was far out in the ocean |
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when I cut the roof of my mouth on the potion |
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down down down went the femur |
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I let my backbone slide in the ether |
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laying low in a tropical hideout |
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if anyone finds out; I'll turn their lights out |
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subtitle: where there's a will there's a whalebone (way to go) you'll never know |
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I set sail that morning and I may not come back know lay low |
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in a hideout just to bust you- tropical |
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it's neurotic and exotic |
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with yet another broke down (bone) incidental |
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not accidental |
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when facts track the mental |
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even within movement they know, even with the solitary movement |
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words get arranged for maximum deployment |
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words mean will |
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where there's a whalebone then there's a |
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tale gone wrong |
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young gang on a boat |
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it's the same song |
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same quote |
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nature stretches it out note by note |
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It'S a new state, you don't know the nomenclature, the governor has status with |
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the cutting apparatus |
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and that is half the battle |
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they can't think of how to absorb us, they can't thing of how to solve me |
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let's see |
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a cancerous mix of young pirates for kicks- signed, |
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seated C.(L.)(T.)G. |
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in congealed blood |
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this is all on the surreal |
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don't appeal to the side where the law resides |
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after all that, it's a separatist homicide |
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rappers try to cultivate carbon monoxide |
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you tried to get entranced by the folks that try to get us by hap-happenstance. |
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busdriver: frame our press shots with a whale sternum |
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and a dolphin femur, band breather lab tech with a solvent |
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in a broken beaker, yell in boom mics and moonlight as a coffin cleaner |
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then poolside I food fight with Hollywood anorexics |
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I'm in a crew of pallbearers and ambidextrous foosball players |
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we got pool hall flair, remove all layers of industry pretension |
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and augmented physical attributes |
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because I'm blanketed in nude doll hair |
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but with these styles we're shrewd on-air |
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so we've been annexed to an annexed isle |
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by the radio programmer, half - man reptile |
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that church of satin bible study tutor choir boy |
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prefers the works that are uninspired and coy |
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but uhh Driver's ploy is to show a lot of follow through |
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wearing a monocle coming out a fiery void |
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collecting style in rental late fees |
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they never return it after the test drive |
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infatuated by a robots breast size |
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we ain't entertained by balloon animals |
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marooned on our tropical safe haven |
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everyday is a paid vacation |
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In the evening I arrived on a wishbone |
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so I wished all the stars would go home |
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but one was a dog with its tail drawn |
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it wagged (laughed) as it shed, now its long gone |
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I remember the flavour |
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but I made a choice to stay here |
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laying low in a tropical hide-out |
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if anyone finds out, I'll turn their lights out |