| I’m eight years old
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| I’m sitting in my mom’s car
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| I never even sinned yet
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| I’m not even old enough to know that something’s wrong
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| The radio is playing
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| The Dido song called «Thank You»
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| But tears are in her eyes and she’s been crying all week long
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| And somewhere in my heart
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| I know what she is thinking
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| How’d I end up like this, I just wish I could be strong
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| I’m ready for the key change
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| I know this song gets happy
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| I know this song gets happy
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| It happened to the kids
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| There’s dirt all over their faces
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| They cried amongst their friends
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| They wanted to be famous
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| Instead they all got sick
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| A generation wasted
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| Now they cry alone
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| They live in databases
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| Sixteen years of looking at my screen now
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| The URL forbidden
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| Finally I’m old enough to know that something’s wrong
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| I guess this is my life now
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| I disappear in drawings
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| I know that looking at this means that I’ll never belong
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| I’m walking 'round my school
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| Keeping it a secret
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| I pretend that I’m not queer and they just play along
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| I’m ready for this key change
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| I hope this song gets happy
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| I hope this song gets happy
|
| It happened to the kids
|
| There’s dirt all over their faces
|
| They cried amongst their friends
|
| They wanted to be famous
|
| Instead they all got sick
|
| A generation wasted
|
| Now they cry alone
|
| They live in databases |