| Well, I heard that you went out last night.
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| You looked beautiful,
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| just like a bat beneath the moonlight.
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| I stayed home, took some vicadin.
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| Sometimes it’s all that I can do when I think about the President.
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| How did he become the President?
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| Oh, oh.
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| And I stayed awake
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| for a day or two, and I
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| thought about the world,
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| drank gin and watched the news.
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| And there are some things I’ll never understand:
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| why a country needs a god, and a woman needs a man?
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| And you never write me letters,
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| and you never send my sweaters
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| so I could stay warm when I was without you.
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| Without you, I don’t sleep…
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| I just dream.
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| And I scratched these words into my black notebook,
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| and I wrote my baby’s name uptop —
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| I knew she’d never look.
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| And I tried my best to fight the atmosphere,
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| To think the happy thoughts
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| that leave the phonelines clear.
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| I see Arizona stars from here,
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| but Peter Pan, you’re miles away!
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| And you never write me letters,
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| and you never send my sweaters
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| so you could stay warm when I was without you.
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| Without you I don’t have
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| a place that safe from all the monsters
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| that hide in my head, but sing me to sleep.
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| Sleep…
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| This is the last straw.
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| «This is the last straw,» she said.
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| And I won’t wait for you forever,
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| while you run around like JFK.
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| You watched that poor girl waste the best years of her life.
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| I’ll be damned if I am going out,
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| I will not go out that way!
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| And you never write me letters,
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| and you never send my sweaters
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| so you could stay warm when I was gone.
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| Without you, I don’t have
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| a place that’s safe from all the monsters
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| that hide in my head, and keep me 'til dawn.
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| I think
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| this is the last straw. |