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zuò cí : Boyd, Einziger, Katunich. . . |
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A decade ago, |
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I never thought I would be, |
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at twenty three, |
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on the verge of spontaneous combustion. |
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Woe-is-me. |
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But I guess that it comes with the territory |
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an ominous landscape of never ending calamity. |
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|
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I need you to hear, |
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I need you to see |
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that I have had all I can take and |
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exploding seems like a definite possibility to me. |
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So pardon me while I burst into flames. |
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I' ve had enough of the world |
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and it' s people' s mindless games. |
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So pardon me while I burn |
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and rise above the flame. |
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Pardon me, pardon me. . . . |
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I' ll never be the same. |
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Not two days ago, |
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I was having a look in a book |
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and I saw a picture of a guy fried up above his knees. |
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I said, " I can relate, " |
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cause' lately I' ve been thinking of combustication |
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as a welcomed vacation from the burdens of the planet earth. |
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Like gravity, hypocrisy, |
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and the perils of being in 3-D. . . |
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and thinking so much differently. |
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So pardon me while I burst into flames. |
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I' ve had enough of the world |
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and it' s people' s mindless games. |
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So pardon me |
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while I burn |
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and rise above the flame. |
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Pardon me, pardon me. . . . |
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|
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I' ll never be the same. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . |