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You have to learn to pace yourselfPressureYou're just like everybody elsePressureYou're only had to run so farSo goodBut you will come to a placeWhere the only thing you feelAre loaded guns in your faceAnd you'll have to deal withPressureYou used to call me paranoidPressureBut even you cannot avoidPressureYou turn the tap dance intoyour crusadeNow here you are with your faithAnd your Peter Pan adviceYou have no scars on your faceAnd you cannot handlePressureAll grown up and no place to goPsych 1, Psych 2What do you know?All your life is Channel 13Sesame StreetWhat does it mean?PressurePressureDon't ask for helpYou're alonePressureYou'll have to answerTo your ownPressureI'm sure you'll have some cosmic rationaleBut here you are in the ninthTwo men out and three men onNowhere to look but insideWhere we all respond toPressurePressureAll your life is Time MagazineI read it tooWhat does it mean?PressureI'm sure you'll have some cosmic rationaleBut here you are with your faithAnd your Peter Pan adviceYou have no scars on your faceAnd you cannot handlePressurePressure, PressureOne, two, three, fourPressure
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