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 Well, I'd be dead by thirty-three 
That was my best guess 
But hey, here I am this morning 
Singing happy birthday to me 
 
As I clean up all this mess 
Because I'm still left alive 
Without warning 
In the big, boring middle 
Of my long book of life 
 
After the twist has been told 
If you don't die in glory 
At the age of Christ 
Then your story is just getting old 
 
You can see leather-jacket-James 
And Jimi, fan the flames 
Their posters will always look younger 
Ah, but they never knew 
 
And they can't guide us through 
The long stretch of spiritual hunger 
In the big boring middle 
Of my long book of life 
 
After the twist has been told 
If you don't die in glory 
At the age of Christ 
Then your story is just getting old 
 
As a skinny kid she knew 
That she should never sell her beauty 
But it's a strong narcotic 
To feel the public stare 
 
It's like a powerful dose 
Of some synthetic self-image 
It makes you feel so alive 
As long as it is there 
 
And that was how she felt 
Not pushed by human hands 
She was pushed 
By the eyes all around her 
 
So, she fell back into her past 
Where her beauty mark would last 
So, the camera could never have found her 
In the big boring middle 
Of my long book of life 
 
After the twist has been told 
If you don't die in glory 
At the age of Christ 
Then your story is just getting old 
 
Now, when Jesus told the rest 
That He would have His way 
And in death He would not be defeated 
Maybe it was all for the best 
 
For what He had to say 
Because He would not always 
Have to repeat it 
Through the big boring middle 
Of His long book of life 
 
After He passed thirty-two 
If you don't die in glory 
At the age of Christ 
Then your story is still coming true 
 
Still coming true, still coming true 
            
 
HATA BİLDİR
 
 
		
        
        
        
         
         
         
         
        
        
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