| Girl germs, no returns
|
| Can’t hide out they’re everywhere
|
| Girl germs, no returns
|
| Have to come out and play the game
|
| Girls are the rots, you insist
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| By pulling my ponytail you persist
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| To put down my goofy game
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| When yours is goofy just the same
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| A paper doll of superior boyness
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| Clinging to your clubs to mask your own shyness
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| Singing only boys with the goods
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| For a clubhouse in the woods
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| Girl germs, no returns
|
| Can’t hide out they’re everywhere
|
| Girl germs, no returns
|
| Have to come out and play the game
|
| You spin round on your carousel
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| Going nowhere and looking swell
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| Sometimes I catch you looking my way
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| You always get scared and run away
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| 'Cos co-ed playground means confrontation
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| With boyish fears of girl intimidation
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| You’re too cosy in your all boy clubhouse
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| To even consider having Kool Aid at my house
|
| Girl germs, no returns
|
| Can’t hide out they’re everywhere
|
| Girl germs, no returns
|
| Have to come out and play the game
|
| Why don’t you love slurpies in the sun?
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| Why can’t we go to skippies house for fun?
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| I see you said bored with heart decay
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| How you missed out you’ll realise one day
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| How you missed out you’ll realise one day |