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letra de a thousand lives - the herd

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[verse 1 urthboy]
i grew up by the great western highway on the train line
i used to count carriages of coal trains before i heard of
cannonball and coltrane, i was playing ball games
i’f go to sleep on friday night, praying that it wouldn’t rain
dad built a b-ball hoop then flew the coop
while us kids fought like troops and mum was the truth
i can’t believe i threw my sister through the front door
i learnt my lesson well before the triple 0 call
and on the tapedeck by brother had control
getting schooled by him proper in the cold
wenty falls, flannelette and skateboard, foggy wet weekends
funny hour a four-litre cask makes you see friends
parties at the park and drunk, tagging state rail
smoke through empty cans of c0ke when all else failed
wilin’ out on muck up day, turned it into muck up night
cause school didn’t seem to care if we were f-ck ups right
we were blowing off steam, still not even 18
floating somewhere down stream with a vague dream
if could change an hour, maybe i’d move a minute
however many lives i’ve had, i’m only just beginning

[hook 1 urthboy]
i learnt a few things along the way
try to keep ’em front and centre with me every day
all the rest can and will for away
hold tight who you love and let the rest fall away

[hook 2 ozi batla]
don’t look back hoping for the same
cause from where i’ve come i’ve changed
(i don’t know) how to explain the hundred lives i’ve lived
and the thousand more i’ve craved

[verse 2 ozi batla]
in my happy younger days i was a blank page in an empty book
i recal l that naive innocence of childhood
never really was wind, more a quiet one
grew into a shy teen that didn’t seem to smile much
took off for south america at 17
became a sudaco punk in skinny jeans
there i learned what p-ssion, love, and friendship really means
came home to a cold, cold world, that i couldn’t really feel
i was not the same, disappeared into a purple haze
of weed smoke and drum & b-ss
couldn’t seem to find my place
then i did at uni, fighting for causes
we reclaimed streets and taunted police forces
had my heart broken so bad it left my head spinning
proceeded to take it out on a few good women
lived fast and reckless trying to outrun the sorrow
like there was no tomorrow, but inside still hollow
then the mic came and saved me, centre stage became a place
to vent my rage, cyphered and time and went for days
staved off cynicism with wit and rhythm
a hundred lives and counting, a hundred to be written

[hook 1]

[hook 2]

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