| I’m the only me that ever there was
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| I’m the only me that ever there will be
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| And I’m singing and I’m singing about me being?
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| And I’m the only me that ever there was
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| Hello.
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| Now let me tell you about myself.
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| I used to be a drunk,
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| And a chronic drunk-driver.
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| In the ten years between my first arrest, and having my license revoked,
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| I ranked up nineteen major traffic violations.
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| I caused six serious accidents,
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| Injured six people beside myself
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| And had my license suspended twice
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| Here’s the scene:
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| I was still driving, and drinking.
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| Here’s the scene:
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| It’s friday night, you made it through the week, and now it’s your turn.
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| The cheese…
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| You’re going to unwind…
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| The cheese you intended to buy smeared on the headlight,
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| and the sardines, tied by their tails to the bumper.
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| You might crush a great big peanut,
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| under the left-front wheel of the automobile,
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| and put some mustard on the door handle
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| We are driven!
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| What makes it so mellow?
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| I usually picture a quince, jammed up in the window,
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| and the juice running out of the quince and dripping down
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| on the side of the automobile.
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| Pennysoft. |
| You can count on it, Teddy.
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| Penny’s smooth, light flavor makes for an evening of fine?
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| I placed Mr.?, in the form of a?, on the radiator.
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| Put it together
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| Actually, I tied the cat there by its tail
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| and let it screech and holler.
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| Put it together with Pennysoft,
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| and you’ll get onto why it’s America’s #1 Scotch.
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| Drive, with your mind!
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| Driven… Driven… Driven…
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| Tie the shoes to the steering wheel of the automobile
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| Have them actually get in your way, as you attempt to steer the car
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| Drive, with your mind!
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| Then, one night I was driving home after work
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| And I, had a few. |
| And I hit this kid on a bycicle.
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| Slow down, Daddy!
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| Guilt, is just a word!
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| Anger, is just a word!
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| Headache is just a word,
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| and Depression is just a word!
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| Slow down, Daddy!
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| How does someone know when it’s time to be opressed?
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| How does someone know when it’s not time to be opressed?
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| How does someone know when it’s time to be opressed?
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| And how does someone know when it’s not time to be opressed?
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| Please, slow down
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| Drive, with your mind.
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| Why do I have to feel, like this?
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| Why, Do I, have to feel like this?
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| Why do I have to feel like this?
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| I have got to apologize
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| (Repeat)
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| I’m sorry.
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| Drive, with your mind.
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| I’ve got to let those? |
| know!
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| There’s no? |
| for liberty and there never will be
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| Anger, is just a word
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| Pity, is just a word
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| And Depression, just a word
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| Please, slow down. |
| (Down, Down…)
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| Drive with your mind.
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| While the 2nd ammendment, the right to bare arms,
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| You could have two bare arms hanging out of a headlight.
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| Imagine yourself grabbing the hand-brake,
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| and having it bite you back, with a set of teeth.
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| You might have gasoline pour out of the schidometer
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| Everytime you exceed the speed limit
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| Here’s the scene:
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| You can make it even more vivid, by making it cause an explosion.
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| Here’s the scene.
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| (Bycicle ringing. Car crash.)
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| Are you alright there? |
| Are you alright?
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| Are you okay mister?
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| — My eyes, my eyes…
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| Did you get glass in them?
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| — No.
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| I watched you coming across that fire-?
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| When you got to this end, you started driving in circles.
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| — I know.
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| Have you been drinking, Mister?
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| We are driven!
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| Drive with your mind
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| Driving is? |
| shaped like a microphone, into the gates of hell.
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| Drive with your mind
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| He was just eleven. |
| A little younger than my eldest boy.
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| I was too drunk to see him then, but I can see him now.
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| And I remember.
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| I’m the only that ever there was. |