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I found a picture of my mother |
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In her bell-bottom jeans |
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Flowers in her hair, |
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And two fingers up for peace |
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In that Polaroid she smiled, |
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A grown up baby boomer |
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Maybe Mama walked down the wild side |
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Walkin' on the moon |
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And what will they say about us? |
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Well, I've heard stories about my grandpa, |
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Child of The |
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Great Depression |
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How growin' up broke |
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Creates a deep and dark impression |
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He sits in a rocker down at the veterans' home |
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Even when |
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I go to visit |
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He's still rockin' all alone |
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And what will they say about us? |
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They'll call us |
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Generation |
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Lost Or Generation |
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Greed Or the |
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Connected |
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Generation, |
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To a plasma screen |
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Or a Generation |
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Why Enough is not enough |
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Or maybe they'll call us |
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Generation |
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Love Generation |
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Love We are children of divorce |
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And victims of dysfunction |
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We spell check of course |
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And GPS the proper junction |
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We've gotten pretty good at |
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Shifting all the blame |
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But I think |
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I hear an old song |
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Calling my new name |
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Generation |
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Love Not Generation |
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Lost Or Generation |
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Greed Or the |
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Connected |
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Generation |
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To a plasma screen |
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Or a Generation |
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Why Enough is not enough |
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Or maybe they'll call us |
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Generation |
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Love Oh, Generation |
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Love And when they open up our time capsule |
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A hundred years from now |
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Maybe they'll look inside and see we figured out |
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How to live with less and give ourselves a way! (Or maybe they'll call us) |
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Just maybe they'll call us |
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Generation |
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Love, yeah, yeah, yeah |
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We are a brand new generation of love (Generation Love) |
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We are a brand new generation of love |
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Oh oh oh ohh (oh oh oh ohh) |