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You and I are bound to go bad
Deny I am a fill-in for your dad
It seems so silly to cling to that
End up alone and feeling fat
You’re an ocean away and three decades behind
From where you want to be this time
Call me late at night with trivial things
I get real antsy whenever the phone rings
Don’t have to prove you’re independent
Just assume this thing has ended.


Lyrics submitted by threemilesofbadroad

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