My so-called friends
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Where are they now?
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I guess a love that bends
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Isn't worth much anyhow
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The come and go
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They talk their shit
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And when I really need to know
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All I get is spit in my eye
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But the less I know,
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The better, the faster I go, jet-setter
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I chase around the world
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But I never get the girl
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But I don't let it bother me
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I cut out any part of me
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That's been bruised, and refused, and misused or confused
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Oh, some people wanna know
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All about my history
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And no one seems to care
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That none of it's noteworthy
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But I talked so much, as it were
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That I made the local news:
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"The boy has got the magic touch
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And he can't ever lose"
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My present situation
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Is no longer inspiration
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My precious generation
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Is killing their time
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And behind their backs
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I'm slipping through the cracks
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And it doesn't really matter if
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You won't have any part of this
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My scheme I've devised
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Where my team is disguised
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And we seem like ordinary guys
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But surprised
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I'm hardly phased anymore
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By your classless ways
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It takes more than that to amaze me
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These days I'm so messed-up
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Never know what time it is
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Jet lag's the price to pay to play show biz, kid
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And I stayed up late
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The night before
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I slept the whole way on the plane
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And now my neck is sore
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(C'mon now)
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Da da da da da da, ahh...
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-----------------
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Jetlag
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Brendan Benson |