| She complained, you look different, yeah, but I’m keeping my name
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| You’re not drinking the usual, I said it all tastes the same
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| She fled, you smell like L.A., yeah, but check out my new frames
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| You know these cool shades make you look bitching
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| Oh, she split from our table mumbling remember to tip
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| I had a twenty in ready but I said I might skip
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| Some people act funny when you’re just trying to be hip
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| Oh, spend a little time outside the kitchen
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| Magnificent miles, trying out this new walk
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| And people are watching, it’s like stepping on chalk
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| Learning curves behind like a memory stalks
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| But in all it’s an innocent mission
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| She rang late last night, said that wasn’t you, was it?
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| I said all colors of money are fit for deposit
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| Half naked right now, I’ve got soup in the closet
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| Oh, it’s sometimes with words I’m just fishing
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| Should I come over? |
| It sounds like you need me
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| I said, hey, that’s funny, you sound like my TV
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| Just try this thing once, it’ll make life so easy
|
| And even puppies come under suspicion
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| Then a lover came knocking, I opened the door
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| With an apple in my hand, she said, what’s that core?
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| It’s the past and the future, but I shouldn’t say more
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| And that’s just my radio hissing
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| Well, I know you too well and I know you’re no villain
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| I said, don’t look now 'cause I’m ripping off Dylan
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| What you see is a little crusty, the real thing’s the fillin?
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| The sound bite from a verbal beautician
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| All the jokers in this world, they’re swarming like bees
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| Catch one to the head, make you fall to your knees
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| Lenny Bruce was a prophet in the 1960's
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| Two shows at tonight’s inquisition
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| And drifted and dreaming, lost in the bed
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| Body’s ups and down are just food for the head
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| It’s front page and French fries or the funny pages instead
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| We tickle the truth into submission
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| All in all it’s an innocent mission
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| Just tickle the truth into submission
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| And tickle the truth into submission |