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Well I'm standing in the queue And I can't stand anymore missing you And I can't stand the pain Cause I can't get home 'cause of a hurricane Dead
service It makes me nervous The boys in the queue The girls in the queue The men and the women all shouting at you Whatever happened to career's
way Michael? Through the door he scans the bar, then a space appears His drink is poured, for he is numb, the service it starts here He sees it in
Waiting For Triage: WAIT!!! Standing in line, Service? Waste of time my foot is throbbing Waiting room is full of disease, Agony is all around. How
it down Everybody and then you Running around, you try to file it down In the hate speak and the queue Running around, you try to file it down
driving me insane And I'm stuck in the post office queue I'm stuck in the post office queue I could have been at home by now, watching Doctor Who But
Well I'm standing in the queue And I can't stand anymore missing you And I can't stand the pain Cause I can't get home 'cause of a hurricane
These public displays of affection Surely your love must be new I can't wait for my next rejection I'm always the first in the queue Try to hold
Well the story begins on the Isle of Dogs In a time of world recession There's a queue a mile long for every job Young hopes deep in depression
where the bass drops hard McDonald's got no service they're playin' the wrong card Fist bumps with the cashiers waiters know my name Dancin' in the queue
a rari, let's see how fast we can go Imma hit up my girl molly, services is on a roll I can't trust nobody I can't trust who's wilding Why these niggas
There were mice in the kitchen And mice on the weighing scales And mice in the queue For the bureau de change And mice on the self-service machine
Service with no meaning, frustration gets ahead Please hold, please hold, getting old, getting cold. Please hold, please hold, endless loop I've been told
At the place pagal I'm sitting in a chair Waiting for some service, taking in the air My life spins past As I'm thinking of you The waitress comes up
this motherfucker crashes and nothings really plug and play i was a superfan, but you let me down bill gates the service was rude, i want my money back
Here’s the thing Since you asked if I forgot about you Been on my mind like work that Minimalists do Fuck you I'm only speaking my truth It never
were doomed But normal service has resumed At last we're back to Normal yet i feel slightly sad 'Cause though it drove us all berserk And everyone was
Word, I'm ready Divinity when I spit, this, literally is my gift Message to devilish industries is kiggedy kiss my, grits A minimalist, with little
Yo I got five phones, but only one in service One for making calls, the others full of verses, yea Sometimes I flatter myself, pull out the pen
I met her in an international queue There wasn't much else to do I asked her where she was from She said "Switzerland" Well she was staying for
sous terre Les gros vers jouent de sa chair Alors j'rends service, Moi, l'vieuloniste En un p'tit tour de vice La bête est sur la piste Je vais lui
in the queue for the app-based driving service Build-your-own-schedule type, check-out-when-I-want type of Day and night side gig while I full-speed
considered an essential service.) Business degrees Fuckboys sayin' cheese For the infographic front page slot of White Guy Magazine Just keep up the grind We
Tiredness can kill Take a break Tiredness can kill The signs spin round my head Here I am stopping at a Moto Stretching my legs, queue for cappuccino Cows
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