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He'll look around the room, but won't tell you his plan
He's got a rolled cigarette
Hanging out his mouth, he's a cowboy kid, yeah
He found a six-shooter gun
In his dad's closet, and with a box of fun things
I don't even know what
But he's coming for you, yeah, he's coming for you
All the other kids with the pumped up kicks
You better run, better run outrun my gun
All the other kids with the pumped up kicks
You better run, better run faster than my bullet
I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed
She was looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb
In the shape of an "L" on her forehead
Well the years start coming and they don't stop coming
Fed to the rules and I hit the ground running
Didn't make sense not to live for fun
Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb
So much to do, so much to see
So what's wrong with taking the back streets?
You'll never know if you don't go
You'll never shine if you don't glow
Hey now, you're an all-star, get your game on, go play
Hey now, you're a rock star, get the show on, get paid
And all that glitters is gold
Only shooting stars break the mold
It's a cool place and they say it gets colder
You're bundled up now, wait 'til you get older
But the meteor men beg to differ
Judging by the hole in the satellite picture