| Can I tell you a story
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| 'Bout a boy who broke his own heart?
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| And he always blamed everybody else
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| But the truth is that he did it to himself
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| He made a couple songs and they got big
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| Thought that he could do whatever he wanted
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| But it all left him with a hole in his heart
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| Ooh-ooh-ooh, money buys you happiness
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| But ooh-ooh-ooh, it doesn’t buy you time
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| The more that I get old
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| The less I wanna be sober
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| And I can’t quit, goddamit
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| And maybe I’m just broken
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| And I’ll never admit it
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| That I wish that I was younger
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| Yeah, twenty-six and I’m rich
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| How the hell did it come to this?
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| And I wish I could tell you
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| Everything is perfect, but it’s not
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| Now I’m starin' at the ceilin' for like ten days
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| But I’m pretty sure that I forgot
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| What it’s like to be a person that doesn’t think
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| That everything he does just sucks
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| Oh it’s so perfect world until it’s not
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| Ooh-ooh-ooh, money buys you happiness
|
| But ooh-ooh-ooh, it doesn’t buy you time
|
| The more that I get old
|
| The less I wanna be sober
|
| And I can’t quit, goddamit
|
| And maybe I’m just broken
|
| And I’ll never admit it
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| That I wish that I was younger
|
| Yeah, twenty-six and I’m rich
|
| How the hell did it come to this?
|
| The more that I get old
|
| The less I wanna be sober
|
| Yeah, twenty-six and I’m rich
|
| How the hell did it come to this? |