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King Of Minneapolis Pts. I & II

Bomb The Music Industry!

Letra

    I. DRANK MYSELF TO DEATH

    We got a bottle of Jim Beam and started drinking.
    I drank a liter.
    To distract me from my constant overthinking
    I need a breather.

    You built this up your head. The pressure.
    Relax, don't think too much 'cause you can't take this.
    Well, I relaxed with liquor.
    The pressure has gone away,
    But baby, I can't see shit.
    It's not the same to me when falling on my face.
    It's not the same to me when
    I finally drank myself to death.

    Enter the shaking, man, I should'va eaten something.
    Enter the crying.
    "My life is useless and I won't amount to nothing."
    Better start dying.

    You built this up your head. The pressure.
    Relax, don't think too much 'cause you can't take this.
    Well, I relaxed with liquor.
    The pressure has gone away,
    But baby, I can't see shit.
    It's not the same to me when falling on my face.
    Wrap me up in sheets,
    There's nothing left to see here.

    I should be old enough to know (better better)
    And I should be young enough to
    Not take everything so seriously
    I should be smart enough to
    Know that doing this is dangerous
    This mixing anxious energy with
    Drunk ferocious carelessness.
    ???
    I finally drank myself to death.

    I finally drank myself to death.
    It's turned to laughs.
    I'm turning red outside on Cedar St.
    It's twenty-two degrees.
    I'm screaming:
    "M-I-N-N-E-A-P-O-L-I-S CAN KISS MY ASS IN HELL"
    I've built you up in my head
    And now you've started a war in my head.

    And the soldiers are falling down.
    And you din't even try to win.

    Aw, fuck.

    II. TRUE 'TIL COLLEGE

    Get me a friend or a smoke
    Or a hospital or a suicide pill.
    Get me a million dollar record deal
    So I can end this charade.

    Cause I, I keep writing the same song over again,
    Over and over and over and over again.
    Yeah I, I keep writing the same damn song over again.
    Over and over and over and over again.

    And it feels like heroin.
    I just got addicted to
    Demanding your attentio
    For my trite repetition.
    And I can't stop thinking about
    The first songs I ever wrote
    Where I swore off alcohol
    'cause I knew better.
    And I can't stop feeling like
    That "straight edge" shit became a cult
    But I'm kidding myself by believing
    That the bar scene is any better.

    And I, I keep writing the same damn song over again.
    Over and over and over and over again.
    And it feels like there's nothing left at all.


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