| On the hottest night of the year
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| Lying in a patch of rhododendrons
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| A bottle of whiskey under my arm
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| Trying to count a sky full of stars
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| I dream of order, I dream of fleets
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| Of Napoleon in aquamarine
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| He said «Linus put that blanket down
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| You’ve slammed your door too many times»
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| He said «Linus put that blanket down
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| The world won’t wait»
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| Boy, what you gonna do with your life?
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| When I was your age, I was commanding fleets
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| When I was your age, I was soaked in victory
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| And now you can’t keep a job and you can’t keep a wife
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| What a horrible mess you’re gonna make of your life
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| Watched way too many American films
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| To be John Wayne, Brando or James Dean
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| Waiting so long for your wrists to get thick
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| Waiting so long for the next great party
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| So many questions, so little to say
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| You don’t need these weights
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| Boy, what you gonna do with your life?
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| So you want to be an artist, want to be a singer
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| Want to be remembered for what you could create
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| So you want to be a cowboy, riding to the distance
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| Never have to listen or answer to anyone
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| So you want to be a boxer, surviving on your instincts
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| Relying on your fists and the quickness of your wit
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| Are you bigger than these buildings and the grey around you?
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| Is your pain more worthy than everybody else?
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| Drunk again in the rhododendrons |