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lyrics

Each and every person born without a face is who I long to be. Move my sleeping bag across the wooden floor, raise my beaten hands to yours and make my plea. Each and every storm cloud gathered high above the California trees is just another soft reminder that there’s a million things that I won’t ever see. And when I finally leave the desert will they let me clean the sand out of my teeth? And when I finally leave my parents how will I know I have all the things I need? There’s no checklist, no gold star, for me. When will you come claw my insides? All of the apostles talking shit on me from inside my TV. Making fun of how I don’t know who to talk to and how no one wants to put out our CDs. All of my old teachers whispering about how lucky I could be, but when you show your public high school to enough of your ex-girlfriends you retreat. When you finally leave my nightmares how will I know where to find you when I sleep? And when you finally call me out, will I just sit there and pretend that I believe? I don’t know. I guess we’ll see. I get it. I’m nothing. You win.

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from The Motorcycle Industry Reigns, track released August 18, 2010

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The Motorcycle Industry Brooklyn, New York

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