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DUDE: Jesus, man, can you change the station?
DRIVER: (A large Black man, shown from back seat POV) Fuck you man! You don't like my fucking music, get your own fucking cab!
DUDE: I've had a--
DRIVER: I'll pull over and kick your ass out, man!
DUDE: I've had a rough night, and I hate the fucking Eagles, man...
DRIVER: That's it! Outta this fucking cab!
It's like going to confession every time I hear you speak
You're makin' the most of your losin' streak
Some call it sick, but I call it weak
You drag it around like a ball and chain
You wallow in the guilt; you wallow in the pain
You wave it like a flag, you wear it like a crown
Got your mind in the gutter, bringin' everybody down
Complain about the present and blame it on the past
I'd like to find your inner child and kick it's little ass
Get over it.