| I’m asleep on a pile of paper, ideas are rife
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| Never amount to much, they died
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| In a cardboard building
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| Licking cuts, I count the ways I’m not quite living
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| No boom, no bust, gold bars of love
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| Not quite floating, not quite sinking
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| Give me the drink, I’m the future king
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| I’m a future king, I’m the future
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| Back on the PEEZ
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| That exists somewhere but it can’t be seen
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| These words are meant for nothing
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| Hope is born of hopelessness
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| These thoughts won’t change the clocks
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| Notes on a life not quite lived
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| An appalling teacher, lessons learned
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| Lost in a deep abyss
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| The voice gets weaker and weaker still
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| Were we really born for this?
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| I’m sort of feeling a kind of maybe
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| Type of thing, please dismiss
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| This public speaker, the future king
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| The future king, the future falls to its knees
|
| It exists somewhere but can’t be seen
|
| These words are meant for nothing
|
| Hope is born of hopelessness
|
| These thoughts won’t change the clocks
|
| Notes on a life not quite lived
|
| These words won’t shatter the earth
|
| Hope is born of hopelessness
|
| These thoughts won’t change the clocks
|
| Notes on a life not quite lived |