Walter Mitty and His Makeshift Orchestra breathe funny

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This is the western coast
OIf everything I know
The fatal flaw, the coming doom
This is why you breathe funny
When you try to fall asleep
Why you feel alone at your parents' home
Tar in your throat
Shining most everyone you know
Forced to play along with our hegemonic host
Hiding my opinions in plain colored clothes
Just waiting til their bored of their game
So you can sit them down, shut them up, call their bluff, and tell them why you came.
I've stopped defending all the powers that be,
Cutting the leashes of our loans,
Defriending corporatocracy, but I don't know what to tell him, but ever since I met him I pretend that I'm not home.
I'm selling ads on the windows of my soul
And privatizing all the good deeds I bestow
I'm selling my old journals praying that they can keep in tact my savings
That's exactly why I'm saying that I don't believe I can love anymore.
No, I don't believe I can love anymore.
Honest I've lost my head or I'm pleased to be used to doubting the hope all this is for the better.
At least your hanging with me, at the end of our rope.

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