Released under watchful skies
Into a town I didn't recognize
I was a tourist with no story
Lost in this purgatory
Escaped the smell of chalk and shame
I pledged a classroom in my name
The PTA won't bless me
And the yearbook will assess me, yeah
I walked down these familiar streets
They're filled with circus freaks
Your plans are as useful as baby's hand
There's no planning in shadow, shadowland
I chase you round the chimney stacks
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