Who’s gonna wash their feet upside down
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And who’s gonna mosh with their arm broken?
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Are you gonna wait for me?
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Are you gonna wait for me?
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And who’s gonna take a nice Sunday out?
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And who’s gonna kick the ball in the house?
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And who’s gonna bid for the mailman’s pouch?
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And who’s gonna set fire to the couch?
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And who’s gonna build when the yard’s burning?
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Write this down, better write this down
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Got a feeling gone
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Forget it if I don’t write this down
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And who’s gonna sue when they’re not working?
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And who’s gonna count when it won’t open?
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And who’s gonna feel for you when you’ve gone
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Into the sea with the birdies and the fish
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And wounded me?
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Write down the crime with a ballpoint pen
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With a ballpoint pen
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Will it come at me with a ballpoint pen?
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Will it stab my hand so I can’t write anymore?
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Got a feeling gone
|
Forget it if I don’t write this down
|
And who’s gonna take a nice Sunday out?
|
And who’s gonna kick the ball in the house?
|
And who’s gonna bid for the mailman’s pouch?
|
And who’s gonna set fire to the couch? |
And who’s gonna build when the yard’s burning?
|
Write this down, better write this down
|
Got a feeling gone
|
Forget it if I don’t write this down
|
And who’s gonna sue when they’re not working?
|
And who’s gonna count when it won’t open?
|
And who’s gonna feel for you when you’ve gone?
|
Who’s gonna wash their feet upside down?
|
And who’s gonna mosh with their arm broken?
|
Are you gonna wait for me?
|
Are you gonna wait for me?
|
And who’s gonna take a nice Sunday out?
|
And who’s gonna kick the ball in the house?
|
And who’s gonna bid for the mailman’s pouch?
|
And who’s gonna set fire to the couch?
|
And who’s gonna build when the yard’s burning?
|
And who’s gonna sue when they’re not working?
|
And who’s gonna count when it won’t open?
|
And who’s gonna feel for you when you’ve gone? |