| You’re not telling what you feel
|
| You just say you can’t deal
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| You’re just lying in an orange peel
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| You’re just saying it ain’t real
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| Mom told you
|
| And I’ll tell you
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| You better clean it up
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| Clean up your room
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| I’m not telling you what to feel
|
| I’m just saying I can’t deal
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| You’re just lying like a peel
|
| I’m just saying you ain’t real
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| Your mom told you
|
| And I’ll tell you
|
| You better straighten up
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| You’re such a messy son
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| You’re so hot
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| You’re baked
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| Entangled
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| Tunafish cans, chocolate wrapper
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| Jello box, stuffed gorilla, phone bill
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| Fax paper, cranberry juice, dirty socks
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| CDs, tapes, guitar pick, new snare
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| High school year book, comb
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| And all those letters
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| Your mom told you
|
| And I’ll tell you
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| If you make me cry
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| I’ll poke your eye
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| I’ll tell you limb for limb
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| You’re lying in your room
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| If what you say is true
|
| Then I say we’re through |