| Walking baby steps in the gardens of my childhood
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| Dinosaurs on the floor, dear to my mother
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| Early morning on the countryside, crawl out of bed
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| Breathless in the bathroom, guilty pleasure
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| Stop being so fucking polite, I know you were raised
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| To be raw cause I know you’re just like your father
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| There are a lot of bad seeds in this black sheep family
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| But blackest of all is the baby boy in the crib
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| Let’s take care of that old birch in our brotherhood
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| Let’s take care of that good old tree
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| It’s made of you and me
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| And I will try to be good, as good as I can
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| I will do all my best to be a brave little man
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| But when it all comes down, I guess I have to say
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| I’m not like my brothers
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| I’m not like my brothers
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| My mother told me I was sensitive as a kid
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| Don’t deny my kiss, I’m on my best behavior
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| And on my darker days, I had a friend called Tigermouse
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| Deep black eyes and silent therapy
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| And he would calm me down, as calm as I could be
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| Cause crazy kids tend to have a lively fantasy
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| Including vivid dreams, he would watch over me
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| Cause me and Tigermouse we don’t like bats and balls
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| We only watch from our room screaming when they fall
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| My fearless brothers on the fields outside our doors
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| I’m not like my brothers
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| I’m not like my brothers
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| I’m not like my brothers
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| I’m not like my brothers |