| I’ve tried dolls that were guaranteed sixteen or under, none were very exciting
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| Sorta like a laugh track or whacking off, they’ll get you off, but it’s just
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| not the real thing
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| It’s been decades since my pit days
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| But I haven’t shaken it — I sit there like an idiot
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| Still wrapped up in the old punk protocol
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| And dreaming that the teenagers will think that I’m a radical
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| And I still wait for the bus to come where the high school got torn down
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| Still expecting to find true love among the skateboarders hanging out
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| The back of the bank in my hometown
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| All this talk and no action’s got me stiff from the tit to the bone
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| So I’m living in la-la-land, but at least I’m not living at home
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| Same old catcall same old chemicals
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| Same old thrills stealing stockings from the shopping mall
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| It’s easy enough to grow the fuck up happy with the rough cut
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| Nobody’s really looking for a diamond in the rough but
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| I still wait for my mom to come and pick me up at Holly’s house
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| Ten years after they cashed it in to make a multi-level parking lot for a
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| seven-eleven and burger king and
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| I’ve got cryptographs, I’ve got all the phones tapped
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| It’s just proof enough it was indisputable
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| Love’s not good enough I want photographs
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| Something that will teach me my arithmetic at last.
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| Betty, get your kids out, I’m on the loose again
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| And getting more ridiculous the more I think I ought to get my mind out of the
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| gutter
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| (It's getting dangerous, Amanda, you’re old enough to be the fuck.)
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| My own private highway from the cradle to the grave
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| I save a bundle skipping middle age and saturdays
|
| And I still wait for the cops to come where the station since burned down
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| Still expecting they’ll pick me up for all the sins I committed in the back of
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| the banged up pickup truck
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| I’ve got autographs, backstage passes and leather jacket back patches up the…
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| Ask me anything I want evidence
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| Single serving saccharine packets dripping black with lipstick kisses
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| I still wait for the bus to come where the high school got torn down
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| Still expecting to find true love among the skateboarders hanging out
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| The back of the bank in my home…
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| I’m no pederast, just out of interest
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| Thank you, but I’m capable of getting up and getting dressed
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| Love’s not good enough I want photographs
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| Something that will teach me coming
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| Time and time again
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| I think I’ll die my hair again
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| Oh wow
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| I’m sixteen
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| No, I’m ten
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| I’m seventeen
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| And the bank of Boston beauty queen |