| He really liked flannel with big bore arms
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| If you looked in his closet, it was all that you saw
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| He’d dress up on Sunday; |
| a body looked neat
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| In a green leisure suit with wing tips on his feet
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| An' I hated the music he played in the car
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| It was hard to believe he called those people stars
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| They’d sing through their noses like they all had colds
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| I guess it’s hard to be cool when you’re forty years old
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| An' I was fifteen and real hip with long hair
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| An' I’d ask my Momma, «Why's Daddy so square?»
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| An' I couldn’t believe all that he didn’t know
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| I guess it’s hard to be cool when you’re forty years old
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| The night I turned twenty, she came with the news
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| Scared half to death, an' didn’t know what to do
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| I told her, «I'm sorry, but it’s not too late
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| There’s a doctor I’ve heard of who fixes mistakes.»
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| An' I thought he was workin', an' I was alone
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| But he was standin' behind me when I hung up the phone
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| He said, «Son, there’s a few things you don’t know about
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| If you listen real close, we can figure this out.»
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| «Cause I was eighteen and as wild as they came
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| When one night, a young girl told me the same thing
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| An' you wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t said no
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| You see, it’s hard to be cool when you’re twenty years old.»
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| These days I like flannel an' old Levi jeans
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| An' I look at my young boy, who just turned fifteen
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| An' I know what he’s thinkin', but it’s OK, you know
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| You see it’s hard to be cool when you’re fifteen years old |