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Andy was a Catholic
The ethic ran through his bones He lived alone with his mother Collecting gossip and toys Every Sunday when he went to Church He'd kneel in his pew and say "It's work, all that matters is work." He was a lot of things What I remember most he'd say "I've got to bring home the bacon Someone's got to bring home the roast." He'd get to the factory early If you'd ask him he'd tell you straight out It's work No matter what I did it never seemed enough He said I was lazy, I said I was young He said, "How many songs did you write ?" I'd written zero, I'd lied and said, "Ten." "You won't be young forever You should have written fifteen" It's work "You ought to make things big People like it that way And the songs with the dirty words Make sure your record them that way" Andy liked to stir up trouble He was funny that way He said, "It's just work Andy sat down to talk one day He said decide what you want Do you want to expand your parameters Or play museums like some dilettante I fired him on the spot He got red and called me a rat It was the worst word that he could think of And I've never seen him like that It's work, I thought he said it's just work Andy said a lot of things I stored them all away in my head Sometimes when I can't decide what I should do I think what would Andy have said He'd probably say you think too much That's 'cause there's work that you don't want to do It's work, the most important thing is work It's work, the most important thing is work
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