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letra de elliot fifth - boh racer

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i don’t get it, i get drunk
and that’s not poetry within me
that’s a fifth
and just because i’ve got a knife in my chest
that does not make me elliott smith

i know you wanna rail some junk and cry on stage
but there’s more to this art thing than just drugs and pain
“real artists set themselves on fire”
give me your wrist, i’ll carve some flames
(i’ll carve our names)
i continue to feel like such and assh0l-
with my completely defective brain
i think that the final time i feel devoid of a spine i’m gonna snap
thеse dudes are buggin’ if thеy think that’s alright
oh f-ck it, who wants to fight?
maybe you and all five of your dumbass looking friends
i’ll keep my hands by my sides

so f-ck being an artist
and f-ck everything that word implies
i am an anarchist that stays in bed, follows the laws, works a sh-tty 9-5
and it makes me f-cking sick
and it makes me f-cking sick
and it makes me f-cking sick
and it makes me f-cking sick
so if it hurts me to smile i guess i’ll try sewing my mouth shut
so when i throw up stomach bile it will leak out from my mouth cuts
i am completely aware that at minimum i’ve got to be like the three
billionth dude to sound like this
to write songs like this
but the difference is none of them had you
hey!
none of them had you
hey!
none of them had you

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