You

al-

ways

go

to

the

par

-

ties

To

pluck

the

fea-

thers

off

all

the

birds

On

your

knees

I

would

not

beg

you,

please

I

want

your

pic-

ture

but

not

your words

You

know

they’d

want

it,

but

there's

no

first

On

your

own

But

you

can-

not

call

it

your

home

We

al-

ways

rub

our

hands

too

much

We

know

the

reas-

ons,

but

such

and

such

On

your

own

You

will

not

catch

your

own

bone

We

run

our

fin-

gers

to-

ge-

ther

You

know

it's

ea-

sy,

The

de

-

vil's

plan

On

your

own

You

can-

not

call

me

your

own

Jack

of

all

trades

Mas-

ter

of

none

Cry

all

the

time

Cause

I'm

not

ha-

ving

fun

You

al-

ways

want

to

be

for

-

given

The

de-

vil

does

what

you

ask

of

him

On

your

knees

You

can-

not,

you

are

not

for

free