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I'll tell you about the driver, who lives inside my head |
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Starts me up and stops me and puts me into bed |
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He opens up my mouth when it's time for me to talk |
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And fires up my legs when he wants me to walk |
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Keeps my eyes open for most of the day |
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Adds to my memories the things that people say |
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When he makes decisions, I don't have to wait |
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But sometimes it seems that he's got too much on his plate |
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Like this morning when I woke up and he dressed me in this shirt |
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That looks a little ragged, where he dragged me through the dirt |
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I'm moving through this life and I'm thinking about the next |
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And hoping when I get there I'll be better dressed |