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letra de ...and a world to win - arms aloft

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seems ain’t much left that’s fair anymore. sh-t, most days not even the weather. so through think and through thin and through thinner yet, let the stuck-downs stick together. we can barely afford our nests some months, let alone any wax or feathers to take a running start at the closest flame just to end back here where we’re tethered

when what goes around has run aground, we’ll be staying up late, making a racket. kicking our way out of our caskets. we’re not dead yet, despite some great attempts. maybe a few hours short of a new dawn, and we ain’t slept yet but it feels like we’re waking up

what’d i tell you about carrots and sticks?
and how behind the guy with a neon smile is an inherited pile of low bids? what’d i say about tacks and heels? convenience, wages and apple pie; it’s a f-cking bribe

when what goes around has run aground, we’ll be staying up late, making a racket. kicking our way out of our caskets. we’re not dead yet, despite some great attempts. maybe a few hours short of a new dawn, and we ain’t slept yet but it feels like we’re waking up

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