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And I don't want to spend this Friday night, |
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like I had to spend last Friday night; |
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dying by the record machine. |
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All day cigarettes, all day entertain the void. |
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There are so many things I should be doing |
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but I don't, and I don't change. |
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All day kerosene, all day I play with matchbooks. |
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I push them all away or burn them alive |
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in attempts to save me. |
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Regret would require less arrogance. |
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I like my self on the following conditions: |
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that I'm better than the next guy |
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at everything I'm into. |
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And my looks are important |
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if I'm less sophisticated. |
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And my girlfriend's a bombshell |
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and I'm all she's ever dated. |
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And money's an object if it pays for my ego. |
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Power's the drug, and pride s the needle. |
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And it rips through my skin |
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and goes into my blood stream. |
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I feel like laughing, I feel like choking on it. |
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I don't want to spend this Friday night |
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picking fights by the record machine. |
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True, but not quite, |
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that I'm tired of the fantasy. |
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And I see the light, |
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but the dark is so accommodating. |
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The worst mistake I cold make |
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is watch you walking away. |
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Not that I know how to change |
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I do it just the same |