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The Age of Impotence - Cursive
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The Age of Impotence Cursive

The Age of Impotence - Cursive
Everybody’s made to break down
We’re saddled with an expiration date
Me, I’m a rotten egg
Stinkin’ up the joint
With this sulfurous, ageist angst
I’ll wear out a welcome like a bad cliche

Never really had an endgame
Never quite sure when the jig is up
Now, I guess I’m stuck
Only so much
An old Raconteur can fake
Before the giant cane yanks you off stage

Should’ve had a backup plan
Guess you’ve only had
40 years to delinеate
Could’ve had a bird-in-hand
A cozy little job
With a housе and dog

Maybe you’re down the wrong road
Back up, see where the other roads go…

Mutherfucker
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