| In 1900 you held hands and felt like you’d scored
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| In 1910 you’d never need a horse anymore
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| In 1920 you could dance
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| In 1930 lose your pants
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| In 1940 you could go to war really soon
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| In 1950 you could just be dull and a bore
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| In 1960 set the world on fire
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| That was then, this is now
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| And nothing’s blowin' in the wind
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| Screwed up, that’s the problem
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| You’re going down, down, down, down, down
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| Screwed up, that’s your problem
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| You’re coming unwound wound, wound, wound
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| You’re wasting time seeking comfort
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| From any sight or any sound
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| I knew you when you weren’t a bit screwed up
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| Now what you got is spreading around
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| It really doesn’t matter if you know how to sing
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| The only thing that matters is the girl that you bring
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| So when I saw you sitting there just asking for some curly hair
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| I knew that I was getting where I wanted to be
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| But someone must have warned you, so it’s Anchors Aweigh
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| This Johnny’s marching home again tonight
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| You couldn’t leave quietly
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| You had to tell the world and loud
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| Screwed up, that’s the problem
|
| You’re going down, down, down, down, down
|
| Screwed up, that’s your problem
|
| You’re coming unwound wound, wound, wound
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| You’re wasting time seeking comfort by having anyone around
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| I knew you when you weren’t a bit screwed up
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| Now what you got is spreading around
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| I’m getting on my nerves I’m getting on my nerves and
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| Everything you’re throwing at me’s coming up a curve
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| Swing and miss
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| Swing and miss
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| Swing and miss and then you’re out
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| Screwed up, that’s the problem
|
| You’re going down, down, down, down, down
|
| Screwed up, that’s your problem
|
| You’re coming unwound wound, wound, wound
|
| You’re wasting time seeking comfort by having anyone around
|
| I knew you when you weren’t a bit screwed up
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| Now what you got is spreading around |