| This is a song about Super Smash Brothers
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| Although, I don’t think it’s the one you want to hear
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| But still, I’d like it if you, maybe, stay a while and listen
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| To this confession from the heart, prepare for my admission
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| All of my life, I’d never liked Smash Bros
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| I’ve been lying and tricking
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| I tried to pretend to like it just so I could fit in
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| I’m inside a pit, a dark pit of despair
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| I thought my life would be a Peach but this isn’t fair
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| Everyone else around me seems to play this game
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| Man, they really rate it
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| But the more that they praise it
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| The more I feel alienated and naked
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| I was at a party once, we gathered 'round the television
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| For a tournament, all taking turns to sit and get a hit in
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| I’d never win, I’m not competitive, at best; |
| indifferent
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| I don’t possess sufficient reflexes, I’m inefficient
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| I just don’t get the benefit when it’s forever hidden
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| Can’t see the meaning when it’s Greek to me as Hellenism
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| Am I uncivilized or do I see reasonless hedonism?
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| I’m pretending it’s incredible but in my head, it isn’t
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| I don’t really mean to be an endless well of pessimism
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| I’m just a mope and moaning is my coping mechanism
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| And admitting to this is the single best decision
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| I fucking suck at Smash Brothers, oh, bless, forgive him!
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| While critics are lavishing, damn their religious praise
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| I’m struggling understanding the physics
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| Knocked off a platform, then hopping right back up
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| That’s not very accurate gravity, is it?
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| Every win I predict, I fail
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| My world shakes of the Richter scale
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| I hate this damn franchise, how long will it prevail?
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| I feel like a Villager lost in a city of hustle and bustle
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| Impossibly busy
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| Can’t comprehend what I’m watching, I’m trippy
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| Feel anxious and Jiggly Puff-ing a ciggy
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| I’d rather by sitting on top of the lickeys
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| Now hand me a cloth, 'cause I’m washing the pity right off
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| Won’t be rid of the alien until I’m solving the riddle he’s got
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| And it’s rippley
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| Whether I’m Fox or Sonic or Chrom
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| Or Yoshi or Robin or Donkey Kong
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| I’m probably gonna be wrong
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| And feeling like God has just strung me along
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| It’s not that simple
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| There’s shades of gray in sinner or saint
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| But I’m just a cunt and I want it to end with minimal pain
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| When will I have any rest?
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| I’m happy to die a valiant death
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| I see your hands directing the characters as if they’re marionettes
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| While I’m an uncoordinated hell of a mess
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| Who hasn’t the stamina to carry stress
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| Or brainpower to hazard a guess
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| What are we doing? |
| I dinna Ken
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| So, I suppose you win again
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| Don’t worry your little head about it, Dan
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| You’re just being a friend
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| A snake in the grass, a wolf at the door
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| Damn, there’s a lot to un-Pac-Man
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| The black Clouds of comformity part
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| I vow to take my last stand
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| Alarm bells are ringing
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| And I’m seldom singing
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| From the heart with such wrath
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| But now, I’m coming out swinging
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| I made a song about it
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| Probably may be wrong about it
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| But now, I’m tired of keeping secrets
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| And I want to shout it
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| Don’t stop me now
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| Don’t stop me now
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| Don’t stop me, don’t stop me, don’t stop me
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| Don’t stop me, don’t stop me, don’t stop me
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| Don’t stop me, don’t stop me!
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| Is the bell icon toggled on?
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| I’ve got an Inkling
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| Do you like the tune?
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| Link’s in the description |