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There was a boy and he thought himself quite special |
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Somehow important and confidently able |
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He didn't care if your face got under his foot |
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As long as he didn't stop to have to look |
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He had a chest for the trophies that he'd stolen |
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He shined them every morning on his way in |
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And even he really started to believe it |
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Rationalizing that they were meant for him |
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But I know that you're not the king of the setting sun |
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I know what you are and have done |
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And that crown you found is gonna leave |
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On your head a big green ring |
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You're not the king of the setting sun |
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I know what you have not done |
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And you're gonna burn in |
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Hell He sometimes wondered if he was just trash |
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He felt guilty one day, but it passed |
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And after that, he convinced even himself |
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That everyone loved him and no one else |
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But I know that you're not the king of the setting sun |
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I know what you are and have done |
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And that crown you found is gonna leave |
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On your head a big green ring |
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You're not the king of the setting sun |
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I know what you have not done |
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And you're gonna burn in |
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Hell Thinking back, you smiled at |
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How you'd come this far |
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And how the idiots had bought into what |
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You told them you are |
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Now, hold really still and hope that they don't see |
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That you're one big vacancy |
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But I know that you're not the king of the setting sun |
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I know what you are and have done |
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And that crown you found is gonna leave |
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On your head a big green ring |
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You're not the king of the setting sun |
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I know what you have not done |
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And you're gonna burn in |
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Hell |