| I used to be such a sweet, sweet thing
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| 'Til they got a hold of me
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| I’d open doors for little old ladies
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| I helped the blind to see
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| I got no friends 'cause they read the papers
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| They can’t be seen
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| With me and I’m gettin' real shot down
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| And I’m feelin' mean
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| No more mister nice guy
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| No more mister clean
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| No more mister nice guy
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| They say he’s sick, he’s obscene
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| I got no friends 'cause they read the papers
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| They can’t be seen
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| With me and I’m gettin' real shot down
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| And I’m gettin' mean
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| No more mister nice guy
|
| No more mister clean
|
| No more mister nice guy
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| They say he’s sick, he’s obscene
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| My dog bit me on the leg today
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| My cat clawed my eyes
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| Ma’s been thrown out of the social circle
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| And dad has to hide
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| I went to church incognito
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| When everybody rose
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| The Reverend Smith, he recognized me
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| And punched me in the nose
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| He said:
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| No more mister nice guy
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| No more mister clean
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| No more mister nice guy
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| He said you’re sick, you’re obscene
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| No more mister nice guy
|
| No more mister clean
|
| No more mister nice guy
|
| He says you’re sick, you’re obscene |