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No, no, don't worry about her.
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I'm talking about you.
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Worry about yourself.
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'Cause if really-- if all your life is
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is a series of fucking meaningless...flings...
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and some idealized vision of our love story...
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Then I'm really sad for you.
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Because I know what you're capable of.
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Yeah, well, what if you're wrong?
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What if this is it for me?
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What if I'm just destined to sit around and wait
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for the band to get back together?