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Every sick fickle fucker Childhood's what makes ya Till they treat you like tundra Weigh those opinions, more like air than lead Every planned occupation Surefire disappointment up ahead Till they treat you like desert See mirages of friendship, face turns red He's soon to be an anchor Build the bridges to nothing, you'll get nowhere Every governor's mother knows That their bread is buttered by Sam And what about science? Then find the proof And let you make Your own decisions Every child star wonders If they have a future up ahead Every kind hearted banker I don't think there is one Every winning opinion I wish I had one Every winning opinion I, I wish I had one Stand on platforms in water Filling jars full of silence you'll get nowhere [Incomprehensible] [Incomprehensible]