| Married young what’s done is done
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| Our hearts and hopes are soft and glistening
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| We started playing house too soon it seems
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| Our Swedish furnishings are splintering
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| But who am I to preach this game we play?
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| Roll in the hay with dreadful infidels
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| No sleuth’s deduction need attain the way
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| Our love so bold, incendiary and new
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| What are we to do?
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| So trust me, trust me, trust me dear
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| Your mom and papa hold me dear
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| We make mistakes we make mix tapes
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| Our love’s a young, wholesome, healthy enterprise
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| Is there a sliding scale in Hell?
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| Does the devil grade on a curve?
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| I wonder who’ll be the first to burn
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| In this beautiful decay
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| But you path will still remain economy, econo you
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| Married young what’s done is done
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| Married young what’s done is done
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| We’re too young and we believe
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| We’ll be our first, our only
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| We’re too young, we peak too soon
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| What are we to do? |