Player

Do you ever try to feel
The way they expect with some consistency
The way your head hits a pillow
When you remember a falling dream

That woodsy scent of patchouli
Inside the fold of a magazine
Triggers a memory
After years of touch

Five minutes from downtown
And I could tell from the sound
That the pours would be strong
You know it when the band belongs
In a bar
Or at a venue with a stage and
A sound guy with a fucking degree

It’s not it’s not it’s not, I know
It’s not it’s not you, I know
It’s not it’s not, I know
It’s not it’s not, you know

The color of skin
On the kid who graduates
Could really change your mind
If that’s the mankind you hate

It’s not it’s not it’s not, I know
It’s not it’s not you, I know
It’s not it’s not, I know
It’s not you, I know how you feel

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