| Mum
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| All the other options that you had in mind starve me
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| `Cause I’m optionless and turkey-free and blind
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| Pa Won’t you listen and I’ll let you in on this
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| Blind me!
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| As you listen I’ll reduce advice to dust
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| Oh no!
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| I shouldn’t have to spell my name
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| Ma!
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| If it’s worth the made up smiles, the quiet fights
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| Oh mother!
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| It is hard not to look in the mirror’s eye
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| I have come to this while you have come along
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| So it’s alright if you change your mind the other way around again
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| I shouldn’t have to spell my name
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| So start the two way monologues that speak your mind
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| We’re talking two way monologues with words that rhyme
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| We Can’t reclaim the shirts we threw away last twirl
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| Uncurl the note-in-pocket, personal brochures that dust
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| Machine-washed, that’s how paper rusts
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| Days you spend wanting some of Michael Landon’s grace
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| Strike back, now they shape your life as stony as his face
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| Oh no! |
| I shouldn’t have to spell his name
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| So start the two way monologues that speak your mind
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| Start the two way monologues with words that rhyme
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| Start the two way monologues that speak your mind
|
| We’re talking two way monologues
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| We were chasing rabbits on the hill
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| And that prairie-life was great, but never real
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| `Cause we never saw no rabbits out there, ever, no, not once
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| All we did was put a fire up and watch it burn for months
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| And I miss the sound of stairs and walls and maladjusted doors
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| And too little space for holding all the soldiers and the war |