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A new song, the vehicle for a paean to individuality, duely dedicated to a like mind.
A meditation on the war against alternative view and aestheticism, and the unrequited yearning to belong.
Some Cats Hate Individuality So Much
Askin' me what I stand for, like an acronym
Throw'd up for the slacker men, blunt-wrap in hand
Deadpan haberdashery, surely
At the homies' kickback, we'd split the sack
Watch each other go; 'nother bowl, quick t'match
"This cashed"
Stretch this imag'
Misfit managed
At the inhibition intermission - Schis's vanished
Thinkin' of the wicked planet, the "I Win" Edition
The fictitious, twisted to my whims an' mischievous senses
Without the sensitive, or the front lawn thieves
Takin' offenses
The manic depressives
Won't be endives
It's beyond me, why aren't we
Left to our exoduses, our goals
Our lexipros at home, next to our contact lenses
And it's not like you would understand
How much fire's burning in my hands
If I unclench them, then things will get worse
But I wanna hold yours
Aliens
Extra terrestrials
Expired interplanetary visas - the stress peels
I miss the Venutian swirl when our sunset wheels
Success in the human world; this is how the best feels
Solitary cynic, mimic how the rest deal
Solidarity's pandemic - Ground Zero's the West Field
Involuntary Food for Thought
Slaved over Tourette's meals
So the less heal, and are obligated to listen to my next spiel
Generation RX: Babies of Reaganomics
Mine's Thatcherism - potato, pot-ah-to, let's be honest
That's just a natural prison - fresh out probation office
Basking in depression, slappin' on our best passive-aggressive evasive offense
I get along with you - I just hate the process
I light a bong or two for a tardy slip to delay my consciousness
This for the trauma victims - the ones been raped by progress
I'd look the part of the best, but I don't explain the obvious
And it's not like you would understand
How much fire's burning in my hands
If I unclench them, then things will get worse
But I wanna hold yours
I wanna hold your hands