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I took the needle out of my arm about
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A year ago today,
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And every day since then Iâve been taking
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The needle out of my brain.
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So when Iâm staring down at my hands I canât explain
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Just what it is that Iâm thinking of,
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Except thank god that all my veins have to pump is my blood.
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Iâve done you so much wrong I canât believe
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You would still talk to me.
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And I say so much bullshit I canât believe
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That anyone around me can breathe.
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I know that itâs a little dramatic,
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But the word for not changing is âdead.â
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So Iâm getting better, my friends, but please donât hold your breath.
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I met a man in rehab the first time,
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An organizer in prison.
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He lived in Chicago when the cops shot Fred Hampton,
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But he was just a kid back then.
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Justice doesnât flow from police guns,
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Iâm reminded of that all the time.
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As long as there is a law, peace will be a crime.
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What the news calls economics,
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I still call it violence.
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If your god is a judge or a jailer,
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Iâm still an atheist.
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But I try to have faith in the things that will happen;
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I get saved from myself when i do.
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So maybe âgodâ isnât the right word, but I believe in you.
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