| In the rites of passage I did partake
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| But to say that I’m responsible would be a mistake
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| What do I have to do
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| To prove myself to you
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| In a manner of speaking
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| You’ve taken all the finest pieces
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| And that doesn’t leave me much to pick and choose
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| Now I’ll have to be satisfied
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| With what little remains
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| You condemn me for the things that I say
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| But they don’t seem to affect you at all anyway
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| Why can’t you let it be
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| I don’t suppose that you’ll ever see
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| Exactly what makes me
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| Do all the things that I do
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| And believe me when a say I have my reasons
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| I have only tried to utilize
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| What little remains
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| You expect so much
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| And I accept so little
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| You’re at war with yourself
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| And I’m stuck in the middle of it all
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| Though you pressure me I will not give in
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| You can yell and scream and say I have spread myself too thin
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| Wait a minute before you shout
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| Do you know who you’re talking about
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| Are you referring to me
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| Or is it yourself that can’t deal with
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| Do I stimulate a memory
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| Too close to home or could it be
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| That I’m becoming what you used to be?
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| I will leave no scars no marks or no stains
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| I will try to make the best of it what little remains |