training for utopia - the art of killing a copy machine lyrics
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you could never do this
remember who gave this to you
i was there when you held the notepad
when you committed it all to memory
only to reproduce at a fraction of the heart
stop singing my song
stop cheapening my words
you haven’t raised a naive foot from your cage
your lack of everything speaks volume in no words
and now you point every finger at me
that i haven’t done my job
your working overtime with no results
so now i am pointing the fingers
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