SIT DOWN!
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Return to sender, I’ve fallen off the hint of suggestion
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Unlearning the strange devices of the world
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It’s the end of the earth or something like it, like it
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The great universal coma has arrived
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We are holding our hands towards the sun
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Sit down, come on sit down. |
Let’s break out the shotguns, we’re
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Going to town
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Return to sender, carried straight from the womb to the grave
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Your eyes have been paled to emptiness
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All things have been carved out by the unceasing haunts
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Of this, the Great Manipulator!
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The holding of our hands upwards and around the eclipsing sun
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Has become empty and automatic
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Sit down, sit down, come on sit down
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Let’s break out the shotguns, we’re going to town
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Let’s break out the shotguns, we’re going to town!
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You’ve given us user friendly grenades! |
Just what are you trying to say?
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Just what are you trying to say? |
Just what are you trying to say?
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Just what are you trying to say? |
Just what are you trying to say?
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Just what are you trying to say? |
Just what are you trying to say?
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Just what are you trying to say? |
Just what are you trying to say?
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The holding of our hands upwards and around the eclipsing sun
|
Has become empty and automatic
|
Sit down, sit down, come on sit down
|
The holding of our hands upwards and around the eclipsing sun
|
Has become empty and automatic
|
Sit down, sit down, come on sit down
|
Let’s break out the shotguns, we’re going to town! |