Someday they`ll write a book about you,
because you`re so selfish, it`s funny.
So self-absorbed, this thunderous horde,
of you, you, you.
So self-absorbed, this thunderous horde,
of you, you, you.
Yeah, I`d love you, but you love yourself.
And you`d love me, but I love myself.
So tense are these nerves in any instance.
Teeth snap and a toe taps the dirt.
Cry like a baby and see if then maybe
the others will cherish your hurt.
Never you see a cry or plea,
consider another or first.
Know this is your world.
The harsh words you have hurled.
Recall you are the one in need worse.
Yeah, I`d love you, but you love yourself.
And you`d love me, but I love myself.
Yeah, I`d love you, but you love yourself.
And we`d serve you, but we serve ourselves.
Ignoring you, I dance, oh I do.
Through magnificent realms, quite divine.
Stopping to see my face smiling at me.
For this is my life and my time.
What an arduous task, it proves such a feat
to be only one of a kind.
Though the scenery slips through
the places we meet.
Press forward and leave me behind.
What a child you are, for you look just like me,
looking out for number one.
I`m all that I have and all that I see.
Saved by the grace of the Son,
So shall we deny?
And rot as we die?
As I write a book about me,
my noble wealth of serving myself,
I am so selfish, it`s funny.
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