| He gets his information from overhearing conversations
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| He doesn’t ask questions,
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| Doesn’t learns many lessons
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| And he keeps his mouth shut
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| Til it boils over and he blows up And then he can’t form his words right,
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| They don’t fit together so tight
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| And I hope to God that he will find his name,
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| And not listen to his so-called friends when they so boldly say,
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| «This is the way that you are,»
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| Don’t let them say,
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| «This is the way that you are.»
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| She doesn’t have much to say about yesterday,
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| Or what happened to her when she was eight
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| So she drinks a lot and it makes her feel okay for the moment,
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| But it’s gone when she awakes
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| And I hope you know that someone out there loves you
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| So don’t give yourself away,
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| And don’t listen to them when they say
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| «This is the way that you are,»
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| Don’t let them say,
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| «This is the way that you are.» |