| It’s all bullshit — she said with a smile
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| As she tore another page and set it on fire
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| It only took a couple of chapters of this garbage
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| For me to see flashes of red carnage
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| Goody-two-shoes with his positive attitude
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| Sniffing his own farts and vomiting platitudes
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| Pretty paragon with astonishing attributes
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| Stirring up anger of mind boggling magnitude
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| Just where does he get off claiming to get
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| What it’s like being me — she said shaking her head
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| Never have I read anything half as phony as
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| This sanctimonious crap — damn near odious
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| Page after page he goes on
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| About the power of positive thought but for so long
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| Shit has been shoveled in my face so get that
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| When some douchebag tells me to embrace my setbacks
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| I almost get the feeling it was meant to provoke
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| She continued in contempt staring into the smoke
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| I’m sure within those pages there was something to learn
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| But I feel I get more out of it watching them burn
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| I’m searching — she said now looking at me
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| But I’m fairly confident it’s not a book that I need |
| And it doesn’t really matter if it’s written by a sage
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| She concluded quite calmly and lit another page
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| Now put your lighters up
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| Put ‘em up now — holy smokes
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| Some people write these books to get rid of their demons
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| Others don’t write but feel bliss when they read ‘em
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| Then there are those who get sick to their stomachs
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| By the writers and the readers — when it reaches its summit
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| And it turns into rage too huge to neglect
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| Then burning a page can have a soothing effect
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| Myself — I observe and take notes and quotes
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| Like the old saying goes — whatever floats your boat |