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Mr. Domecticity |
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Mr. Domesticity, |
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with your wife and child, |
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enjoying the quiet life, |
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while I am running wild, |
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What you have to offer, |
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I just don't find appealing, |
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I like a little more freedom, |
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and a lot more feeling, |
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I don' want to settle down, |
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or be your child's mother, |
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I prize my independence, |
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I'd rather be your lover, |
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But you like your routine, |
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and you're afraid to change, |
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You don't have the courage, |
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it takes to start over again, |
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I gaze in from the outside, |
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and find myself at a loss, |
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Your white picket fence, |
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is a line I cannot cross, |
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You've got your steady job, |
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and a growing family, |
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A picture of suburban joy, |
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Mr. Domesticity, |
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But one thing I wonder, |
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about your marital bliss, |
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If she makes you happy, |
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why am I your mistress? |
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If you love her so much, |
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why were you with me, |
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on her birthday morning, |
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and your anniversary? |
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Who did you make love to, |
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on that anniversary night? |
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You and I both know, |
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it sure as hell was not your wife, |
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Your numerous marital problems, |
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everyone but you can see, |
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She took off her wedding ring, |
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What about that, Mr. Domesticity? |
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You continue to stay with her, |
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despite all she's put you through,����� |
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But I'm not co-dependent, |
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so I won't wait around like you, |
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You want your cake, �� |
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and you want to eat it too, |
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Now wouldn't that be, |
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just so perfect for you, |
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So I guess I have to say it, |
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and burst your little fantasy, |
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In case you haven't noticed, |
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you can't have her and still eat me, |
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I was willing to give you, |
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all that I could and more, |
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So you took all you could get, |
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before you walked out the door, |
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And you left me in the cold, |
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and went back to your family, |
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but I feel sorrier for you, |
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Mr. Domesticity. |
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So you chose to keep the cake, |
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for your sake, I hope it doesn't mold, |
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I hope you enjoy what you bought, |
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with the possibilities that you sold, |
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So stay home and water your garden, |
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raise your baby and mow the lawn, |
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And I'll be left to wonder, |
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will you miss me when I'm gone? |
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And sometimes at night, |
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when you're in her embrace, |
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Will you look into her eyes, |
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and still see my face? |
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Will you lay awake and wonder, |
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what might have been? |
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If you hadn't missed a chance, |
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that will never come again, |
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By not choosing, you have settled, |
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with your usual passivity, |
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for the one who had to stay, |
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How fucking typical, Mr. Domesticity. |
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I hope it makes you happy,������� |
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your Norman Rockwell life,����� |
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Just don't look beyond the frame, |
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enjoy your child and wife,��� |
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Since you seem so comfortable, |
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stay in the bed you have made,������ |
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Just remember: a layer of paint,������� |
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is a thin masquerade,���� |
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And I hope someday to have a man, |
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love me as much as you do her, |
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Except, perhaps, a little more,��������� |
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enough not to be an adulterer, |
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Enjoy your commitment, |
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I prefer to remain free, |
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I hope that you're satisfied, |
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Key 2 |
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Mr. Domesticity. |
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