| I keep on scribbling
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| In the spare room I’m living in
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| Body’s here but I’m never in
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| Why do I keep wasting time
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| I keep on writing, writing
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| But them folk ain’t biting, biting
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| Maybe the bait ain’t juicy enough
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| So I’m switching, chucking spice in, add some flavor
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| Up the heat, silly rhymes and feet-tap beats, yeah
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| But that ain’t me — nah, nah, nah
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| It just ain’t me
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| So like me or lie me
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| These are the words that just be true
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| Sending them out with love and faithfully
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| Hopefully, they’ll mean something to me cause…
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| Life is too short to store up grudges
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| Life is too long to make no plans, plans
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| I’m counting up time that I ain’t using (1,2,3,4…)
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| I need a good use for all these lines, and lines, and lines, and lines
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| And lines, and lines, and lines, and lines… |