| Years have passed,
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| since the last time
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| that I raided my parents drawers,
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| but I still dream and my stomach still turns,
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| trying to figure out who they were,
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| did they breath the same fears,
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| hate the same wars,
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| did they stay up all night,
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| just to chase the party,
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| burn into the morning,
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| called my father on the phone,
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| told him I was scared of getting old,
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| told me to leave,
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| told me to run,
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| stay distracted at work son, have fun,
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| this time I’ll do it right,
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| this time we’ll do it right,
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| this time I’ll do do it right,
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| this time, I’m taking your advice. |