| Why must every generation think they’re folks are square?
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| And no matter where they’re heads are, they know mom’s ain’t there
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| Cause' I swore when I was small, that I’d remember when
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| I knew what’s wrong with them, that I was smaller than
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| Determined to remember all the cardinal rules
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| Like, sunshowers are legal grounds, for cutting school
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| I know I have forgotten maybe one or two
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| And I hope that I recall them all before the baby’s due
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| And I’ll know he’ll have a question or two
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| Like, hey pop. |
| Can I go ride my zoom?
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| It goes twohundred miles an hour, suspended on baloons
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| And can I put a droplet of this new stuff on my tounge?
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| And imagine puffing dragons, while you sit and wreck your’e lungs
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| And I must me permissive, understanding of the younger generation
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| And then I know that all I’ve learned, my kid assumes
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| And all my deepest worries must be his cartoons
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| And still I’ll try to tell him all the things I’ve done
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| Relating to what he can do when he becomes a man
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| And still he’ll stick his fingers in the fan
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| And hey pop, my girlfriend’s only three
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| She’s got her own videophone
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| And she’s taking lsd
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| And now that were best friends, she wants to give a bit to me
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| But whats the matter daddy? |
| How come your’e turning green?
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| Can it be that you can’t live up to your dreams? |