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The Phonebook
by
Patrick Stump
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Lyrics
You want more, poor Blow all my cash She got knocked up by a knock-knock joke and it'll knock you on your ass Sleeping in the gutter, guttin’ all my sleep Sleeping in your troubles and boy you slept indeed Sing me the Phonebook Don't give me no dirty look I gotta p*ss Circle the yard 40 days light, 40 days dark Sing me the Phonebook You make the call I'm not a messiah, just a mess I still love you, one and all You can’t judge blood by the way it felt I got full sleeves but be my guest, deal the hand your dealt Leave this town this evening Am I being something kind? The devil may be waiting He may be a friend of mine For a long time I was some sc*m in the back of a pickup truck I never met my dad, hear he’s famous Huh, what the luck I believe in something simple I simply don’t believe You have been forsaken And it’s a role you share with three Leave me Sing me the phonebook Don’t give me no dirty look I gotta p*ss Circle the yard 40 days light, 40 days dark Sing me the phonebook You make the call I’m not a messiah, just a mess I still love you, one and all Sing me the phonebook Don’t give me no dirty look I gotta p*ss Circle the yard 40 days light, 40 days dark Sing me the phonebook You know, oh You know, oh Sing me the phonebook
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