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What a spoiled boy I've been My mouth full, mess, my arms outstretched I've got palm sweat, I'm smiling like I'm competition Well, maybe I'm yours She said, "I know you, you're a salesman's son And you're pimping pretty junk" And I said, "What am I supposed to do They've built the scenes around you and I need more than this" And she said, "What am I supposed to do Look at what's been come of you and I need more than this" Go on then, hitch me up, baby If what I am is not enough Because I do love the glow you get When you're told word for word How to think for yourself I'm tired Of baring my teeth when I smile