| One morning I woke up
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| Scratched my balls and eyes
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| I looked into the mirror
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| And got a big surprise
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| I don’t know who this person is
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| But I’ve seen his face before
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| A face I don’t want to have to face
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| I don’t think I like me anymore
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| When I run into old friends
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| Their eyes seem to dart away
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| I wish I could remember
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| All the shitty things I say
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| Then one day my best friend said something
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| I’d never heard before
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| You’ve done so much for me
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| And I love you
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| But I don’t like you anymore
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| Someone lock the door
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| I don’t like me anymore
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| And here comes media whore
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| I heard this story twice before
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| I don’t like me anymore
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| Pop punks claiming hardcore
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| I don’t like me anymore
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| Was it something that I’ve done?
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| Was it something that I’ve said?
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| Was I having too much fun?
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| Did I dropkick someone’s head?
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| I turn on the TV
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| And I don’t like what I see
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| There’s an old punk rocker acting like a jerk
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| And that jerk looks a lot like me
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| Someone lock the door
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| I don’t like me anymore
|
| And here comes media whore
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| I heard this story twice before
|
| I don’t like me anymore
|
| Pop punk claiming hardcore
|
| I don’t like me anymore
|
| Catastrophe uncertain
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| Hit the lights and drop the curtain
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| Organize a mob and rush the door
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| Peel me off the floor
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| I don’t like me anymore
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| A burning open sore
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| I don’t like me anymore
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| People say they love me
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| Then ask for something more
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| The never-ending story
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| A filibustering bore
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| A pompous dinosaur
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| I don’t like me anymore
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| Why does being nice to people
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| Feel like such a chore?
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| I’m paid to be your clown but
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| Feel like anybody’s whore
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| A somber fact I wish I could ignore
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| I don’t like me anymore |