| Forgive me children for I have sinned
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| I never asked you first
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| The way in which I wrote this song
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| The pen which scribed the verse
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| I never stopped to think of you
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| Each chord change, each refrain
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| Was done so with you not in mind
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| The farthest from my brain
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| Already gone and such a waste
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| Will you please put me in my place?
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| It’s not enough to just say the things you do
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| I hate music because of you
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| Being the connoisseur you are
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| With all you listen to
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| You know exactly what we’ve done wrong
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| And what we need to do
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| Come to you before each note
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| Is ever written down
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| Find out exactly what you want
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| Before we make a sound
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| Already gone and such a waste
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| Will you please put me in my place?
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| It’s not enough to just say the things you do
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| I hate music because of you
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| But I, in my arrogance
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| Have gone my separate way
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| Music is dead and so are we
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| And soon will come the day
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| When every single stupid song
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| And everything online
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| Will turn to dust, the moth, the rust
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| Decay and wasted time
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| If I am honest, there’s part of me
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| That hopes it makes you sick
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| I hope you cannot stand to hear it
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| Or bear the thought of it
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| I hope tomorrow you’ll curse our name
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| You’ll drill it in the dirt
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| I hope you’ll not come back to us
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| I hope it always hurts
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| But at Your feet I admit defeat
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| My work is now in Your hands
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| If they want to hear stupid music so very bad
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| They can start themselves a band
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| Already gone and such a waste
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| Will you please put me in my place?
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| It’s not enough to just say the things you do
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| I hate music because of you |