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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Lyricist: Modest Mouse
Lyrics:
Every sick, fickle fucker Childhood is what makes you, oh Till they treat you like tundra Weigh those opinions more like air than lead
Every planned occupation Surefire disappointment up ahead Till they treat you like desert See mirages of friendship, face turns red
Aw shit
(I don't feel and that feels fine, save twenty dollars and you should rest fine, I don't mind) Here's the soon to be anchor Build bridges to nothing, you'll get nowhere (I don't feel and that feels fine, I don't feel and that feels fine) Every governor's mother Knows that their bread is buttered by Sam (Crook takes, crook takes green out of wallet) And what about science? They find the proof and let you make your own decisions (There are answers to our reasons worthwhile to find)
Every child star wonders If they have a future up ahead (King takes Queen, takes Queen out of the Game, it's alright, it's alright) Every kindhearted banker I don't think there is one (I take you out) Every winning opinion I wish I had one (I took you out for a night on the town, I took my wallet out, nothing was there) Every winning opinion I wish I had one
(You don't mind, well what if that's just bullshit?) There's lifeforms in water Put them aside and you'll get nowhere (You're balancing balls on your nose alright, I don't mind I don't mind if it's so Sometimes you want your own space and that's alright, right? Right)
(Get too creative ordering our drinks and mine stinks, mine stinks Get too creative ordering our drinks and yours stinks, yours stinks, yours stinks Don't get too creative, don't get too creative)
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