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The Kids Of Masochism High

Cut City

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Lift our heads up, high
Lift our heads up, sigh
Come watch the bad moon rise

Sing a drunken lullaby
Opt for a humble goodbye
Yes somehow trouble will await us

We can aim all day
We can claim always
To do what's right

We think we paved the way
We only paid our way
When thick was less than thin

And it's gotten worse
Yes somewhat worse
Not a curse just the course of life

In the middle of the night popping pills and throwing a fit
Where do we rest our heads (not here)
In spite of wrong and right we're righteous sons of bitches
Where do we rest our heads

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