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I was gonna die alone, I know. (Gonna die before thirty years old) I've got this notion that successful careers are evil. So finally for the holidays (A gift is coming all y'allz way) my family will be excited when they look under the Presidents' Day tree To see a box shrink-wrapped with real gold. Not paper gold. It's a f**ing box filled to the top With f**ing gold. Hey, Mom! I got a job I'm not wasting my potential! Hey, all my friends! You don't have to hear about blah blah band who just got a brand new Prevost bus and forgot my name and used to open for us. It's getting old, I know. That's why I'm giving up on rock and roll. We'll celebrate in my new pad (I'm flying you out mom and dad!) I've got a new job and a 40 inch plasma (We'll watch 24!) Now without music I can concentrate on sitting down and charging by the hour to sell ideas to some a**holes who wants to sell a car. I've upgraded from my childhood bedroom to Southern California (everyone here's always smiling) Hey, Dad! I sold the van and used the money to invest! I'm buying stocks and climbing ladders! I'm all business! Yes sir! Right sir! Coming sir! Your documents are in order! You're f**ing proud. I know. Thank Bush I've given up on rock and roll. Hey, Mom! I got a job I'm not wasting my potential! Hey, all my friends! You don't have to hear about blah blah band who just got a brand new Prevost bus and forgot my name and used to open for us. It's getting old, I know. Thank Cheney I've given up on rock and roll. We'll drink Delirium not Pabst. Not at my parents' We're at my brand new apt (that stands for apartment.)