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I've tried dolls that were guaranteed sixteen |
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Or under none were very exciting |
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Sorta like a laugh track or whacking off they'll get you off |
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But it's just not the real thing |
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But It's been decades since my pit days |
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But I havent shaken it, I sit there like an idiot |
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Still caught up in the old punk protocol |
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And dreaming that the teenagers will think that I'm a radical |
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And I still wait for the bus to come |
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Where high school got torn down |
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Still expecting to find true love |
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Among the skateboarders hanging out |
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In back of the bank in my hometown |
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All this talk and no action's got me stiff from the tit to the bone |
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So I'm living in lala land |
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But at least I'm not living at home |
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Same old catcall same old chemicals |
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Same old thrills |
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Stealing stockings from the shopping mall |
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It's simple enough to grow the fuck up happy with the rough cut |
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Nobody's in the market for a diamond in the rough |
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But I still wait for my mom to come |
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And pick me up at Holly's house |
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Ten years after they cashed it in |
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To make a multi-level parking lot for a seven-eleven and Burger King |
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I've got cryptographs I've got all the phones tapped |
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I've got proof enough it is indisputable |
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Love's not good enough I want pies and graphs |
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Something that will teach me my arithmetic at last |
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Better get your kids in |
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I'm on the loose again |
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And getting more ridiculous the more I think I ought to get my mind out of the gutter |
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It's getting dangerous, Amanda, God |
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You're old enough to be his fucking |
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My own private highway from the cradle to the grave |
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I save a bundle skipping middle age and saturdays |
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And I still wait for the cops to come |
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Where the station since burned down |
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Still expecting that they'll pick me up |
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For all the sins I committed |
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In the back of the banged-up pickup truck |
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I've got autographs, backstage passes |
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And leather jacket back patches up the |
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Ask me anything I want evidence |
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Single serving saccharine packets dripping black with lipstick kisses |
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I still wait for the bus to come back where the high school got torn down |
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Still expecting to find true love among the sakteboarders hanging out |
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In back of the bank in my home |
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I'm no pederast it was nice to ask |
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Thank you but I'm capable |
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Of getting up and getting dressed |
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Love's not good enough I want photographs |
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Something that will teach me come inside |
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Time and time again |
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I think I'll head downtown again |
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Oh God |
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I'm sixteen |
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No, I'm ten |
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I'm seventeen |
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And a bank of Boston beauty queen |
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But I'm... |