Have you heard the crooked news The walls have drunken ears So tuned they are for music but so poorly do they hear Your voice under your breath Keep your cards close to your chest Careful what you say around here You go running back to Massa with the jewels that you have mined But do you always make an offering of the gilded shit you find Maybe you're afraid yeah you feel that you're a fraud Too worried 'bout the rest of us, oh, Lord This whole town is feeling tired The eyes are out of tears ...
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