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Trust me Is the skyline sliced up into pieces and broken steel and mesh |
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Or is the progress of process that's a natural people quest |
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Metal and the workings, dark and lurking in my mind |
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Branded neon red and blue flashes |
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The view from the flats is nice |
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I see Alice in |
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Wonderland |
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I see malice in |
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Sunderland |
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Mouse to house, |
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I am this land |
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The were without, it's |
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Thumberland |
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Smoke to a karma coma |
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Jamaicans do yard and roamers |
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Shake Bacardi's and |
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Coke and make me laugh and |
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Trust me So much stuff and many people |
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The future is not evil |
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The future is not fish and it's simple, it's efficient |
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Now that things are costing nothing |
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Is any of it good? |
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Come and love me, read my nothings |
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Blogging river floods |
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Dead plant planted on the window ledge |
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Shadows dance, glint and blend |
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Glance slow at the night outside |
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I'm God in the game |
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Sound rumbles in 5.1 round some corner to fight with guns |
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Play God in games but nothing in |
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Trust me Dub step, club sweat, come get rubbed red |
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Play the playlist |
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Play the playlist |
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I see Alice in |
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Wonderland |
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I see malice in |
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Sunderland |
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House to house, |
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I love this land |
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The were without, it's |
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Thumberland |
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Do the wrong thing, joke it right |
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Span the longings and the fights |
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For all the oil and the toil |
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And the spoils of the royals |
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We are nothing if not nice |
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We are coughing if we are wise |
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Roll me up like a leafy spliff |
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**** that, roll me up and |
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Trust me Why is there so much noise |
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Reading info, buying toys |
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We all fear of company |
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But we are fierce anonymously |
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Enter shit on the internet |
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Clashing people, chatting evil |
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But we are cheery social sorts |
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With the pleasing photo forward |
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Pass the love around and back to me |
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Walking down a madman's street |
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The music in my ears is fleeting |
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Struggle to shuffle to the same beat |
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We are nothing if not nice |
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We have a pretty buttered knife |
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Is the skyline sliced up into pieces and broken steel and strife |
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Anything you tell me |
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Yes, yes, |
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I will believe |
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But again and |
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I suspect |
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Again and |
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I will leave |
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Slow burn a little heaven |
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Roaming yearnings for devon |
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Coburn '67 |
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Don't work for them |
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Trust me Dub step, earth run, red club sweat |
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Put up chests and freeze, freeze |
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Is the skyline sliced up into pieces and broken steel and mesh |
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Or is the progress of process that's a natural people quest |