I blew a hundred shots
to feed your complacency
look at you all
Sleeping and it's plain to see
from me you're not expecting much
Well if I ever had the golden touch
I sure don't have it now
Someone mutter mediocrity
Almost feel sorry
in our awesome meritocracy
No need to waste time
wondering why I'm smiling
no need to sidetrack
or look at what I'm piling
up around your feet
or how I'm spiking every beat
or when I came to
hold this fire in my hand
What's that noise
relax
it's only shifting sand
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