| He’s walking slowly — he is in no hurry
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| He is walking to the slaughter of the hell that’s called routine
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| She arises tried — she is feeding on the famine of the
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| Fat that’s called the housewife
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| Making sure that it’s all clean
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| This is the game called playing house
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| We’re all screamin', no one’s getting out
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| This is the game called playing house
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| He’s starving for a surprise, she is aching for a sign
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| That things are not quite as simple
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| As they seemed to be designed
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| Give me complication, give me freezing in the heat
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| Give me some new kind of rhythm
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| Give me some new kind of beat
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| Don’t give me the game called playing house
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| We’re all screaming, no one’s getting out
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| Don’t give me the game called playing house
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| Playing house, Playing house
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| Destroy all that’s creative — give routine a friendly face
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| Just give everyone a rhythm, just give everyone a place
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| That is the game that we’ve been told that we will play
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| And if we play ot long enough, it’s bound to surely go away |