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Frank Turner lyrics : "Wherefore Art Thou Gene Simmons"

Her mother said, beware of boys in bands
And certainly don't let them write you songs
For though they'll come to you on bended knee, and kiss your pretty hands

When the singing's done and the sun's up they'll be gone
While her mother has a point, I might resent the implication
That every boy who plays guitar plays women like Gene Simmons


4,600 photographs stuck into a scrapbook beneath your bed
4,599 broken hearts and one more you can't get out of your head

While you swear you can't remember every pair of lips you've kissed
Deep down you're scared there's one or two you might have missed


Oh Chaim Witz, wherefore art thou?
Does your mother know who you are now?


Not that I can point a finger, I've been a sinner just the same
I've fallen hard in love in motels and by sunrise lost her name
I have crept out in the cold air and the smallest hours to lead

And in the pockets of my jacket kept my last fidelities

A navy coin and a broken plastic compass that someone gave me

That can't find north anymore
Just like me


Oh Gene Simmons, wherefore art thou?
I could sure use a hand on my shoulder now


When fidelity runs low, that there's the moment when you choose
In life the things you love, there's some you keep and some you lose

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