We're just confessions in the interrogation room,
We're giving it all away and giving ourselves up
We care about being judged, so we let them win
And we can't take back the reactions we gave them
We're like the confessional between the sinner and saint in adjoining boxes
We're being let out after being compressed and repressed
And trying to hide the distress of being removed from the chest
Of someone who was finding it too much to bear
There's beauty in this, in being something with weight
Put in the wrong spot, we just bring the whole thing down
But put to good use, we're empowering, heavy little generators
Just waiting to be placed and switched on
So don't waste that time, make it well spent
And don't think of what happens when you don't have a dollar left
Because it's paper, and there's plenty to be acquired
But contrary to belief, time isn't money,
I've learned this the hard way:
You can't buy back the opportunities you've missed
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