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I donât believe in heaven. I do believe in hell.
Itâs down the street from here, we both lived there for years.
We burned the calendars for warmth, and the alarm clocks just for fun.
We closed the blinds and made goddamn sure that we could never see the sun.
You could set a watch by the bottle returns and the ashtrays overflowing on the floor.
Nothingâs free but time when youâre so damn poor.
But the past was death row, and the futureâs a battlefield.
I hope we choose the right war.
'Cause Iâve been fist fighting gravity since the day I learned how to breathe,
I still wake up on the same cold floor I fell asleep on.
So I wonât, but we shall overcome someday.
I canât do it alone, but I shall be free someday.
I donât know how to live, but Iâm sick of learning how to die.
Vampirism is for poseurs in junior high.
We made our own postal system across the continent.
As long as freight trains run and loners pick up dreamers with thumbs, who needs governments
To get a letter to you, or a mixtape to me, or a postcard to Johnstown?
Whatâs a thousand miles between friends? Whatâs a friend thatâs not worth crossing a country?
But I owe money and broken hearts from Philly to Sydney and back to Vermont.
I regret a million things and thatâs only what I havenât forgot.
But the past was a mine field, and right now is a prison break.
I hope we make it alive.
When who we are doesnât stop where the law begins,
Then weâll storm their court houses to survive.
So I wonât, but we shall overcome someday.
I canât do it alone, but we shall be free someday.
I donât know how to live, but Iâm sick of learning how to die.
Vampirism is for poseurs in junior high.