| Well I had just met the girl and her boyfriend
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| She was ready for leaving him
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| And I was the way, I was the key
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| I was her way to say, «I'm free»
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| And he would never talk about it
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| Which made me sad
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| I didn’t see what we’d done
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| That was so bad
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| We were all about twenty one
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| My career as a home wrecker
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| Had just begun
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| I was thinkin' about the Boston rock scene one fine day
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| And found it too conservative, you might say
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| I knew her well, I knew him terrific
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| What’s wrong if we wanted something specific?
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| He never talked about it
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| Which hurted me
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| I never saw why such sorrow
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| Had to be
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| I was now about twenty four
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| And I was called homewrecker
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| Once more
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| If someone’s mad at me, why can’t they tell me so?
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| Why do they just avoid me?
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| If someone’s mad at me, why can’t they tell me so?
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| Because I would want to know
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| Meanwhile out on the West Coast, I started wreckin' homes
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| Tryin' to convince girlfriends to leave and roam
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| Now I didn’t touch 'em, 'cause I didn’t want 'em
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| But I wanted to affect 'em, I wanted to haunt 'em
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| And this was the following year
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| My career as a homewrecker
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| Was in third gear
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| Another case of homewreckin' I half did
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| Was the girl who loved me
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| No matter what she said
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| She tried to hide it as long as she could
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| To save her boyfriend pain but it did no good
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| You see I have certain trades and certain wants
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| Sometimes I’ll try a certain thing to provoke a response
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| Sometimes I’ll break a rule just to see who looks
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| Sometimes I’ll knock on a door just to see what cooks
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| My career as a homewrecker is not yet through
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| There’s all these homewreckin' things to do
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| Sometimes I’ll break a rule just to see who cares
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| Sometimes I’ll knock just to see who’s there |