Aspiring Sociopath

Atmosphere

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    [Slug]:
    7:30 AM, Alerted to life by a song on the radio
    The evening is over
    Another morning, another opportunity
    To do something progressive prove that he's worthy
    Up and out the door by 9 O'clock
    The sun is shining up and down the block
    There's children in the corner waiting for a bus
    That will take them to school and exploit their trust
    He starts the car, sparks with one crank
    It's those good ol' fashioned American mechanics
    And even though he'd rather own a new import
    It's dependible and more important its all he can afford
    Stops by the coffee shop to pick up some smokes and a cup of Joe
    Back into the Ford with the windows rolled up
    So when the radio rocks he can sing along freely
    With the lights out it's less dangerous
    At the top of his lungs the words burst through shameless
    Pushing that dream, trying to beat the time
    Oh well whatever nevermind
    Nothing else matters when your knifing through traffic
    Wishing it was a stickshift, it's an automatic
    Listening to the road, voice of the nomad
    How he'd love to leave drive away never go back
    Wheels keep on turning, turning turning and turning
    Alone is when he finally feels like a person
    Light another Nat Sherman
    Crack the window, feel the wind blow

    Serenity tenfold
    God bless whoever invented sunglasses
    And while your at save the saints that work the fast food drive
    throughs
    Objects are closer than they appear
    Cuz when your by yourself there ain't one else to lie to
    Talk radio gets a lot of play in his vehicle
    It teaches him topics to dicuss with real people
    So when he stops to get gas or hit that coffee shop
    His neurotic ass can act like he knows a whole lot
    Pour some sugar on me, my counterfeit personality
    He's a loner gotti, he's a rebel
    He's gonna drive the escort to the middle of that meadow
    Thinking about how he can leave this city
    Fill the tank and towards the water he'll flier
    Maybe he should just go get a picture at the CC
    And find a stool at the bar where he can stare at the TV
    Either way tomorrow will be just like today
    And that's all it takes to make the change
    He loves to drive more than he loves being alive
    And this town doesn't even know his real name

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    It goes bye bye Miss American Pie
    Drove the Ford to the border to disturb the order
    If only that he'd know that he wouldn't be missed
    Maybe then he could have grown to exist
    (repeated till the song fades)

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