| In the wonder years I was in my own domain
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| Thrashing to Phil, and Mustaine
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| Then I picked up a CD with a pair of breasts wrapped in barbed wire
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| This day will go down in infamy
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| There was no dress code
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| No clique to separate the men, women, and children
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| My own kind of club
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| Good times and great memories like the classic cabana
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| The wine was fine and the trumpets ranged
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| And upon rekindling this deathly siege things weren’t exactly the same
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| Now I travel apart of the team
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| The teams been sold to the Devil himself
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| You’d think he would know what to do, the anthems devoted to his dynasty are
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| portrayed yet sabotaged
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| Who’s got the time for team spirit nowadays?
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| I don’t feel quite at home
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| I’m brand new
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| This isn’t where I thought I was going
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| This place is not the same as I left it
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| The old me would kick the new me’s ass if he wasn’t shorter
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| What’s with the new style?
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| Where were the chicks when I was dope?
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| But I guess it’s OK
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| Like Ben said, 200 solemn faces are you
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| And underground I feel cool in my youth, which by the way has passed,
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| but I’m still cool
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| Check me out, I’m rocking the house
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| I’d hope Dimmu would be proud
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| And underground I feel cool in my youth, which by the way has passed,
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| but I’m still cool |