| How did Camus really die that night?
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| Were they right?
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| When he died was it really his time?
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| Or was it suicide?
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| And Holden Caufield is a friend of mine
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| We go drinking from time to time
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| and I find, It gets harder every time
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| Back Off!
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| You’re out on the street again
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| Don’t you stop!
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| Did you know you couldn’t swim?
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| Back Off!
|
| You’re out on the street again
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| I’m not going to play if there ain’t no way I’ll win!
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| Hemingway never seemed to mind the banality of a normal life
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| and I find it, It gets harder every time
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| So he aimed the shotgun into the blue
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| Placed his face in between the two
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| and sighed, «Here's To Life!»
|
| Back Off!
|
| You’re out on the street again
|
| Don’t you stop!
|
| Did you know you couldn’t swim?
|
| Back Off!
|
| You’re out on the street again
|
| I’m not going to play if there ain’t no way I’ll win!
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| Hey there Salinger, What did you do?
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| Just when the world was looking at you
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| To write anything, that meant anything
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| You told us you were through
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| And it’s been years since you passed away
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| but I see no plaque, and I see no grave.
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| And I can’t help believing, you wanted it that way.
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| Vincent Van Gogh, Why do you weep?
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| You were on your way to heaven, but the road was steep
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| And who was there to break your fall?
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| We’re guilty, One and All
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| And I don’t know much, but I do know this
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| With a golden heart, comes a rebel fist
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| But I can’t help agreeing with those that would not quit.
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| And it makes me sick when I think of it All my heroes could not live with this
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| and I hope you rest in peace
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| Because with us, You never did!
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| And K.D.C., you were much too young!
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| And you changed my life!
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| But I draw the line at suicide!
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| Here’s To Life! |