Banging rocks together makes sunshine
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Banging heads with rocks 'till blood comes: the writing process
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Everything has diapers on and smells like
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It's time for a change
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Or for some holes in the flag
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My whole perspective relies solely on questions
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That can't have answers
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Like everyone oin their assumptions
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A big bigpen driven by dead dogs;
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If that's your site
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Put up a superhero with a better pokerface
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This noble cause reeks of self-gratification
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But it's more like no satisfaction
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So when I die
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The fessin' go to college
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And the writers go to Heaven
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If you wasn't born on this planet
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Blame the World for being there
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I'm not assuming responsibility for everyone lost in the shuffle;
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My whole philosophy is based on moodswings
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Limited attention spans and an expansion pack for everything
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Am I feeling it?
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Mostly full of it
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Selling my cuts for the art of it
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Placed all of my faith in these heretics
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We're all futur presidents;
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Nobody knows it yet
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That's the beauty of it all
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Welcome to my desert island
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The wheather is glorious
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Take a picture
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(No one reads the articles)
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I need music with texture and
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Someday, a happy meal
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Rude awakening after rude awakening
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I'm asking y'all to be police until
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I match the blood on the battlefield
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With the gleam in my eye
|
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If I could make it stop raining
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This whole damn place wouldn't know
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What to do with all the sunlight
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I've been saving up for a life like this
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Your God is booing you offstage
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And your heroes don't respect you
|
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It's all in vain and can't be bought:
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Hung from the ceiling and often attached to the first thought
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She gave me a handshake full of empty promises
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Now I'm thirty minus something
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Plus I wrestle demons down to the ground in my spare time
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It's a new day
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The pigeons no longer fly yonder;
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They make rappers out of messengers and text from all the classics
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Meet the archangel with two minutes to live at all times
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I hold a mirror against a mirror against a mirror against a mirror
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What I'm saying is:
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Word is deceased
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Work is slavery
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They're saving asses for the big layoff
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Where they lie you down to take it like a native colonized
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By search and seizure
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The grass is always greener and when you make it there
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It dies (if getting there don't kill you)
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And the people there don't share
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This is what your bones will sound like when they play 'em in space
|
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If I could make it stop raining
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This whole damn place wouldn't know
|
What to do with all the sunlight
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I've been saving up for a life like this
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Your God is booing you offstage
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And your heroes don't respect you
|
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-----------------
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Respect Pt. 3
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Sole |