the imitation picks you up like a habit writing in the glow of the tv's static taking out the trash to the man give the people something they understand a stickman flashing a fine line smile junk bond trader trying to sell a sucker a style rich man in a poor man's clothes the permanent installment of the daily dose and you tell off when you tell it like it is your world's no wider that your hatred of his checking into a small reality boring as a drug you take too regularly the athlete's laugh; the broken crutch the first true love that folded at the slightest touch brought down like an old hotel people digging through rubble for things they can resell happy holidays said sick savior the leaving lover that i still favor i won't take your medicine, i don't need a remedy to be everything i'm supposed to be i don't want nobody else i can do it by myself we're meant to be together now i'm a policeman directing traffic keeping everything moving, everything static i'm the hitchhiker you'll recognize passing on your way to some everlasting better sell it while you can better sell it while you can better sell it while you can better sell it while you canTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
