| Annika, I long for that too
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| A parental figure to serve
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| Someone who could recognize the pain in me
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| And validate my hurt
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| Who could point me in a direction
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| And say walk this way and you’ll be free
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| That I’d have a home there among them
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| In their little community
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| I think back on a teenage friend
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| Who introduced me to Marilyn Manson
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| In the darkest moments of high school
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| It channeled our frustration
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| He’d set up a poster of Britney
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| She was the face of all that was wrong
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| The hierarchy we’d never be part of
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| And then he brought out his airgun
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| At a concert I met a punkgirl
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| She just walked up and asked my name
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| Asked if I played any instruments
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| She had a band that could barely play
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| The band was mostly an excuse
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| To wear leatherjackets and hang
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| And go vandalize the swimsuit ads from H&M
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| While I carried their spraycans
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| The best song they ever wrote
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| Was called «Can't Get Laid Cause We’re Too Ugly»
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| But they never blamed anyone for that
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| Except Baywatch and Tutti Frutti
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| I had kind of a crush on the punkgirl
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| But she had a crush on my friend
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| And despite my heart being punctured
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| I delivered the message to him
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| But it only made him offended
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| He slammed the door to his room
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| Her interest became an insult
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| And confirmed what he thought he knew
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| And he was furious, so furious
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| At all the Britney’s that he couldn’t get
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| I distanced myself when I saw what
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| He’d written on the internet
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| I re-watched Revenge of the Nerds
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| Do you remember the speech ‘bout being different?
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| How I cried when I saw that at 13
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| But do you remember the rape-scene? |
| Cause I didn’t
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| Or how generally creepy the nerds are
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| The plot could be re-summarized this way:
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| Some athletes try to stop some sex criminals
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| From assaulting their partners, but fail
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| I thought about this culture
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| That gave me strength when I felt like a freak
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| But also gave me an ulcer
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| From an anger that I couldn’t speak
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| That I had somehow been robbed of a right
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| To love and sex that I deserved
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| A feeling that the game was rigged
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| Between alphamales and betanerds
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| And then Isla Vista happened
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| And the Toronto attack this spring
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| And I read these incel threads
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| They reminded me of something
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| I checked my old friend on Facebook
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| Scared of what I would see
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| But he just posted pics of his family
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| In his profile pic he looked happy
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| He had a photoalbum called «good times»
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| With a photo where we try to look evil
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| In shirts that said, «How does it feel
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| To be one of the beautiful people?» |