Soles are worn out in my tennis shoes
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Mother please carry me home
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The process of progress is killing me (now I can't go on)
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Someone please carry me home
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And my cold feet slow me down
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They haunt me now...
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Claim to subclaim, now turn it off
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I'm doing the best that i can
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Act for react, now turn it off
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I'm doing the best that i can
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Could I be losing the will to walk?
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Maybe it's time to run
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And Madison's where I will build my name (from the bottom up)
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Where I will work in the sun
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And the science slows me down
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But I'm free now...
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Claim to subclaim, now turn it off
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I'm doing the best that I can
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Broken finger, now burn it off
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I'm doing the best that I can
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Shedding the smile I used to wear
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(Left alone to my despair)
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Learning how not to let it break my stride
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Casting my tennis shoes aside
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(Missing what was left behind)
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A dead man is plotting his return tonight
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Burn, let me feel the burn,
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I'm lighting a match to all I've known
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Think, I just want to think,
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But this could have been a pauper's parade
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Claim to subclaim, now turn it off
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I'm doing the best that I can
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Blood on my hands, now wash it off
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I'm doing the best that I can
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-----------------
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Claim / Subclaim
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Facing New York |