| I wish that I didn’t hate you
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| Least not as much as I do
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| And squander all my contempt for
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| A little nothing like you
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| Liars like you are ten-a-penny
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| Women would slap you, if you knew any
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| Sometimes I feel just like committing a crime
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| I’ve got this suitcase of phony wisdom to dispense
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| These twenty-seven or so years
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| You’d think I (would have) made them some cents
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| Now they want me fingerprinted
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| Like I was smuggling drugs
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| While the government does deals with the most convenient thugs
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| Sometimes I feel just like committing a crime
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| It’s Needle Time
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| I’m trying not to despise you with a passion that is hard to extinguish
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| Or maybe I really love you
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| Although it’s hard to distinguish
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| I wish I could be A little more like a saint is Forgiving those who trespass against us Sometimes I feel just like committing a crime
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| I started talking nonsense, just like I did to begin with
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| Around the time I tired of those sour English
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| Sometimes I feel just like committing a crime
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| It’s Needle Time |