Connecticut. Not really where I want to go.
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But it's as far as I can drive in twelve inches of snow
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in an broken Econoline. It's equidistant to going out east.
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Thanks guys!
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Uh, did you like the way we played?
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Thanks for buying the CD!
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Can we please stay at your place?
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Because at home no one waits for me.
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I lost count.
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How many I Love You's you said were never true.
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I'm breaking free from you.
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And when you realize your wrong, I'll already be gone
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and you won't be seeing me again (no not again).
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I'll be dead in a cardboard box in transit back to Long Island.
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And you'll feel the weight of the world on your shoulders
|
Like I felt the weight of everyone who never gave a fuck about me.
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Mobile phone doesn't work very well
|
But if I get away from here, I'm an expatriate from hell.
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And once you break free it wouldn't make sense to go back
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to Long Island: where I knew I was alone
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Idly sitting by and waiting after breaking back into my home.
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No one cared that I was back.
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So goodbye.
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I'll forget what to bring.
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Who cares? Fuck everything.
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See the world and sing.
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It seems like we had a good start.
|
But every start has got to stop.
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The last words you'll ever hear from me:
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"The only way you can be free is to say,
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'Fuck this place I call my home!'"
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I'm giving up the burden that was giving up on me.
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|
-----------------
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Sorry, We Steal
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The Arrogant Sons Of Bitches |