The moralist on the mountaintop
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The cap gun cowboy caught playing dress up
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Patrols his cartoon beat with his costume clothes
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The damn fool with his ten-top chip
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His bourgeois blues and his heartbreak habit
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Slings his lightening bolts, his arrows & stones
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Well, you could do it forever
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It won¡¯t make it better
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Cause you won¡¯t find your mark
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You could use a mirror
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To see your target clearer,
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All the bad blood that hijacked your heart
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But you got what you asked for, so don¡¯t even start:
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You were never a victim.
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So own what you did, son, admit what you are.
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Dead weight in a tightrope trance
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The pain pill preacher astray in his wasteland
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Clenched teeth and a canyon he can¡¯t close
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But there¡¯s me racing right along
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The jukebox jester, stuck on the same song
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A mouthful of lies, a head full of holes
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Until I got worried
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And saw the life I could lead
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If I backed up off that rope
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And let the ground come to me
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Steady under my knees
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I let my anger burn into hope
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I asked for perspective, and it untied my hands
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I see the role I played. I chose my own way.
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I can¡¯t blame you for that.
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So when you¡¯re sorry
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And one day you will be
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I wish you all the best
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And hope that you drop softly
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And it don¡¯t end too badly
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And your raging head can finally rest
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And you can be honest and rescue yourself
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But I¡¯ll walk my own road. I¡¯ll go where you won¡¯t go.
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You won¡¯t put me through hell.
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Cause now I see through you. Believe what you need to.
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Go haunt someone else.
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Go Haunt Someone Else
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Kevin Devine |