| I see you singing like a camera
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| I see you staring from your mouth
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| I see you spittin' out your algebra
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| You think you’ve got it figured out
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| I saw you on American Bandstand
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| I saw you on the Mickey Mouse Club
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| I see your wife has a trash compactor
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| I see you holdin' two ticket stubs
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| I see you pushin' out your politics
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| I see you rifling the machine
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| I see you dressin' up your party chicks
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| Lipstick like convertible scenes
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| I didn’t think that you were so much better
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| You just predicted all the fate in the world
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| But now you’re sitting home knitting sweaters
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| Tellin' stories to a three year old
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| Ya used ta kiss the girls and make 'em cry
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| Ya used ta be too young to die
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| Ya used ta kiss the girls and make 'em cry
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| Ya used ta kiss the girls, ya used to kiss the girls
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| Now you’ve got one wife, two kids, three cars
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| Four eyes, five suits, six mortage, seven midnight deals
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| Lotsa time lotsa cash, feed your son take out the trash
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| Do what you’re told, you’re gettin' old, we did not think you’d last
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| She only told you that the party was over
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| She didn’t tell you that the bedroom was locked
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| And when she took your key and started up your motor
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| You should have taken that spin around the block
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| Ya used ta kiss the girls and make 'em cry
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| Ya used ta be too young to die
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| Ya used ta kiss the girls and make 'em cry
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| Ya used ta kiss the girls, ya used to kiss the girls
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| Ya used ta kiss the girls and make 'em cry
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| Ya used ta be too young to die
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| Ya used ta kiss the girls and make 'em cry
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| Ya used ta be too young to die |