| Downstairs there’s a blackboard
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| Scribbled on and filled in with white lies and cruel tricks
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| I admit it
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| And guilt kicks in like a sharp pin
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| Guilt kicks in like a sharp pin
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| Now payment’s worshipped, payola in the sun
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| People who kill for food or fun
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| I don’t know my right from wrong
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| But could I wipe the sin away
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| Away away
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| But when her finger points at me
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| I fall to my iron knees
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| I’ll swear on the book
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| Take the vow
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| I’ll be pure just like I was
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| (As if you could)
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| I will wash away the sin
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| I will get my second chance
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| I will wipe the slate clean
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| With an eraser
|
| (As if you could)
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| I will wash away the sin
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| I will get my second chance
|
| I will wipe the slate clean
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| With an eraser
|
| And now I’m in a courtroom
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| Filled with kangaroos
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| And plants with teeth
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| They’re hungry
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| Twelve of them in a box
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| They say
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| You have done this awful deed, now you have to pay
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| And the judge is twenty stories high
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| He rolls his bulgy eyes
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| Then he gives me a halo
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| I try it on for size
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| And yet I still worry
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| I didn’t get the moral of the story |