Paroles de Life Like Mine
I caught a sermon on the mount of fairy hillIn a Mercury or a Lincoln, I can't see it
I was heaving on a handful of bitter pills
The rolling stone has landed, mankind's achievement
And I told a joke to a bum on School Street in the winter
He quoted Shakespeare and pulled from his drank:
"Do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe?"
And then he ran off to go turn his crank
How fucked up have you got to be
To live a life like mine, a life like mine, a life like mine?
How fucked up have you got to be
To live a life like mine, a life like mine, a life like mine?
I played remorse and regret on weak, cheap frets
On mountain pawn credit dollar
I lost soldiers in there, holy man
If you see God tell it I want her
And I hid from big hands in a rec of a bathroom
Six micros in my nose, so I hear
Echoes on space mountain, further carry on the horror
Bead lady amphetamine (queer)
How fucked up have you got to be
To live a life like mine, a life like mine, a life like mine?
How fucked up have you got to be In Wilson dead park fashion
There are ways and plans all out and for
But no one's put them into action
I made clay with sacred art students
Played cards with drunk out bitches
Woke up dead, I couldn't feel my legs
Am I in trousers, jeans, or britches?
How fucked up have you got to be
To live a life like mine, a life like mine, a life like mine?
How fucked up have you got to be
To live a life like mine, a life like mine, a life like mine?
To live a life like mine, a life like mine, a life like mine
To live a life like mine, a life like mine, a life like mine
To live a life like mine, a life like mine, a life like mine
And then he ran off to go turn his crank
How fucked up have you got to be
To live a life like mine, a life like mine, a life like mine?
How fucked up have you got to be
To live a life like mine, a life like mine, a life like mine?
I played remorse and regret on weak, cheap frets
On mountain pawn credit dollar
I lost soldiers in there, holy man
If you see God tell it I want her
And I hid from big hands in a rec of a bathroom
Six micros in my nose, so I hear
Echoes on space mountain, further carry on the horror
Bead lady amphetamine (queer)
How fucked up have you got to be
To live a life like mine, a life like mine, a life like mine?
How fucked up have you got to be In Wilson dead park fashion
There are ways and plans all out and for
But no one's put them into action
I made clay with sacred art students
Played cards with drunk out bitches
Woke up dead, I couldn't feel my legs
Am I in trousers, jeans, or britches?
How fucked up have you got to be
To live a life like mine, a life like mine, a life like mine?
How fucked up have you got to be
To live a life like mine, a life like mine, a life like mine?
To live a life like mine, a life like mine, a life like mine
To live a life like mine, a life like mine, a life like mine
To live a life like mine, a life like mine, a life like mine
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