What a little tipsy hurricane
I can’t see ahead, it’s all the same.
This is what I’ve been talkin bout,
this game
It’s up and down and back again.
We don’t know where we are
We don’t know how we got here
We don’t know who we are, it’s
a sad truth of the times
Rip the band-aid off of morning.
It’s too bright for me to look at,
but maybe one day...
Maybe one day.
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