once when I was young and I`d think about what there is to think about, like issues facing youths of the day...I had those girly mags, they were stashed away underneath my pillowcase, a hiding place I thought was safe...until the day my mom went into my room with the vaccuum and the broom while I was away at school...when I got home shit hit the fan, is this any way to become a man?, I guess there`s a price to pay for preteen curiousity well what do you want this to be? and what do you want from me? all you want to do girl is go, go, go just simmer down as the years rolled by we moved away from that grand old country place and bought a cityside estate...it was a cul-de-sac, kids were all around, living in a playground, life was never good - it was great...and we would kick the can almost every night, curfew never on our minds, airtight little band of friends...a girl lived across the way who never gave us the time of day, but that`s ok cause we knew a way to get our revenge all you people going out and going around, different bars in different towns, trying to take somebody home...a two drink minimum at least for conversation that`s less than intellectually stimulating, tell me is it worth what you pay? friendly scene backstage and at the show, beers and jokes and folks we know is more or less what it`s all about...the compliments rain down and they hit the ground landing with a muffled sound, we`re more interested in hanging out...and then a bra it flew across the room landing with a sonic boom, a groupie, or at least a wannabe...we said we want no part cause special girls have already captured our hearts, so replace your top, before you start just stop
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