| Why must every generation think their folks are square?
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| And no matter where their heads are they know Mom’s aint there
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| Cause I swore when I was small that I’d remember when
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| I knew what’s wrong with them that I was smaller than
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| Determined to remember all the cardinal rules
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| Like sun showers are legal grounds for cutting school
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| I know I have forgotten maybe one or two
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| And I hope that I recall them all before the baby’s due
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| And I know he’ll have a question or two
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| Like «Hey pop can I go ride my Zoom?
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| It goes two hundred miles per hour suspended on balloons
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| And can I put a droplet of this new stuff on my tongue
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| And imagine frothing dragons while you sit and wreck your lungs?»
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| And I must be permissive, understanding of the younger generation
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| And then I’ll know that all I’ve learned my kid assumes
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| And all my deepest worries must be his cartoons
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| And still I’ll try to tell him all the things I’ve done
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| Relating to what he can do when he becomes a man
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| And still he’ll stick his fingers in the fan
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| And «Hey pop, my girlfriend’s only 3
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| She’s got her own videophone and she’s a taking LSD
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| And now that we’re best friends she wants to give a bit to me
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| And what’s the matter Daddy, how come you’re turning green
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| Can it be that you can’t live up to your dreams?» |