| She was just seventeen
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| Pious and pretty with a deadly disease
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| And the weight of the world on her prosthetic shoulder
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| And by the summer of '96
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| Her body was cracked like porcelain
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| Just like some Precious Moments collectible
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| In a hospital gown and a big, bright golden halo
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| And so three cheers for my morose and grieving pals
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| And now let’s hear it for the tears that I’ve welled up
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| We’ve come too far to have to give it all up now
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| We live lives that are rich and blessed
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| And we’ll burn for how we transgress
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| Now I’ve mastered the art
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| Of the open-casket prayer and the singing guitar
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| And I’ve found the rewards weren’t half what I’d hoped for
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| And meanwhile we all feigned hope and mirth
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| As her parents went on and lied to her
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| All about the success of the surgeries
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| And how my ex-girlfriend was now sleeping with her fiancé
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| And so three cheers for my morose and grieving pals
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| And now let’s hear it for the tears that I’ve welled up
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| We’ve come too far to have to give it all up now
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| We live lives that are rich and blessed
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| And we’ll burn for how we transgress
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| If there’s any justice in heaven
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| Then God won’t let me in
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| He’ll lock the gates and take my weekend pass away
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| With a sympathetic wave they’ll see me off
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| Reserve my golden crown while I am cursed to walk the earth for millennia
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| I know I deserve worse but it terrifies me and I can’t take it anymore
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| And so three cheers for my morose and grieving pals
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| And now let’s hear it for the tears that I’ve welled up
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| We’ve come too far to have to give it all up now
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| We live lives that are rich and blessed
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| And we’ll burn for how we transgress |