Top Songs By Intuition & Equalibrum
Credits
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Lee Shaner
Songwriter
Mark Pawlak
Songwriter
Lyrics
My pops taught me how to throw when I was three
By the age of thirteen, I lost a hold of my beliefs
The known control freak who keep alone and don't speak
Since playing hide 'n' go seek been trying to find his own niche
Don't lie and overreach, go get in where you fit in
Keep a couple trick cards hidden up in my mittens
I realized that every good idea's been invented
So I occupy my space laced and vintage fits within it
Been a minute since I sprinted pass the point of moving on
Still sending fuck you's to past employers Hugh and John
I wasted three years doing your stupid job
At least I'm fired and I got time to right these foolish songs
A renaissance man who grabs a pen and scrawls jams
On a pad of sticky notes holding a Guiness tall can
My life seems kind of cool but it's never all glam
So when it all falls down I just let it all land
You can't reinvent truth
You can't reinvent, reinvent
You can't reinvent truth
I'd rather die the worst me than live to be the best, fool
Don't let your ego get ahead of you
Believing all the hype from the pipelines you fed it through
I'm from that school of thought there's never nothing left to prove
So I keep yapping till no one left to confess it to
I said I talk in the mirror
Convinced that that's the only time that anybody hear's ya
I'm glad I got that cleared up
Mom I said I lead a lonely life and then I watched her tear up
But cheer up, because it's all good mama-san
I got a couple of fees that'll come over with pajamas on
At the drop of a dime, to waste up all my time and hop along
Too preoccupied to ever get my Robert Johnson on
But I serenade satan
Sitting on a corner with a pair of shades waitin'
Heir apparent adjacent to them barricades break
My demeanor's like a needle, we don't share the same patients (patience)
I hit the bar alone, I never leave alone
Driving far from home, seeking out a seed to sow
Be discreet and keep the secrets in the need to know
Don't let your short sheeted feet be the reason peace is gone
Yeah, I know that half the city's mad
Because I smashed their pretty lass, for they ask for titty grabs
I make my loot by stitching bits of witty slang
Not enough to put the peanut shells inside the piggy bank
And now, Wells Fargo hates me
They trace me every place my failed card goes lately
Where the hell's charm gonna take me
When I'm sleeping past twelve my alarm don't wake me
Pacing with a sleepwalk sickness
Placing all my faith in this cheap talk business
I've been some places, trying to see the rest too
Because there's no value in trying to be the best fool
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