| «This is it, my one shot at the big time;
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| I better make it count, stand up and be heard
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| Cause I know, if the radio plays this song
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| All the kids will buy it for maybe a month from now
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| And I won’t be cool anymore
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| I’ve been doing this for the last twelve years
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| Through all the times when no one cared
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| Everybody wants a piece of me:
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| Sign on the dotted line
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| Make what’s theirs is mine
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| It’ll make you rich you’ll see
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| And there’s a million more just like me
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| And I don’t know what’s cool anymore
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| Who am I to say?
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| If you can’t make that decision on your own
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| Then you’re pretty fucking dumb anyway
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| This generation: no motivation
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| Instantaneous gratification
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| Remote controls, and MTV
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| And a generation that’s hypnotized
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| Lulled by repititious lies
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| Spoon-fed all their corporate programming
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| And I’m not a one-hit-wonder looking to get rich
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| I’m not trying to sell out my songs
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| I was here before they’d exploited our scene;
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| I’ll be here when they’re dead and fucking gone
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| I don’t know what’s cool anymore
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| And I don’t care what’s cool anymore
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| I don’t know what’s cool anymore
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| And I don’t think that I ever cared." |