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This place is a prison

by The Postal Service


This place is a prison
And these people aren´t your friends
Inhaling thrills through $20 bills
And the tumblers are drained and then flooded again
And again

Ther´re guards at the on ramps armed to the teeth
And you may case the grounds from the cascades to puget sound,
But you are not permitted to leave

I know there´s a big world out there like the one i saw on the screen
In my living room late last night,
It was almost too bright to see
And i know that it´s not a party if it happens every night
Pretending there´s glamour and candelabra
When you´re drinking by candlelight

What does it take to get a drink in this place?

What does it take, how long must i wait?





 

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