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The breakroom is deserted but I search it |
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For my daily dessert |
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And in cursive on the first lid |
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In the fridge I read these words |
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"if you touch this chocolate cake |
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You'll be fired on the spot |
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Now please enjoy your break |
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Thank you sincerly Victor Allen Moss |
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Aka your boss |
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The one who writes the checks |
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The one who does no wrong |
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And you will miss me you will miss me when I'm gone" |
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When I was only 15 or maybe 16 |
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My first true love I found |
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Her name was alyson |
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She was given a car we drove around |
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A continental to the airfield |
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Watched planes fly overhead |
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We swore in ten years we'd be cowboys |
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Or in ten years we'd be dead |
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But that summer she moved south |
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To the Mississippi mouth |
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And he quote in that years year book |
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In a black italic font |
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Said "you'll miss me, you will miss me when I'm gone" |
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And in the office up the stairs |
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I'm now roping rolling chairs |
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With a lasso made of last weeks neck ties |
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All at once, I realize |
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This is not the life I want |
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So as I write this letter, I feel better |
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Than I have felt in years |
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When you read this I'll be in Fort Worth |
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Roping my first steer |
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The factory is closed |
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But please spare me your tears |
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Pack your things pack them and go |
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Thank you sincerly victor allen moss |
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Formerly your boss |
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The one who wrote the checks |
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The one who did no wrong |
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You will miss me now that I am gone |
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You will miss me |
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I am gone |