| She’s the face on the radio she’s the body on the morning show
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| She’s there shaking it out on the scene
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| She’s the colour of a magazine
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| And she’s in fashion she’s in fashion
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| She’s employed where the sun don’t set
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| and she’s the shape of a cigarette
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| And she’s the shake of a tambourine
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| and she’s the colour of a magazine
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| And she’s in fashion and she’s in fashion
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| Oh and if she tells you 2 is 1 then 2 is 1 my love
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| Oh and if she tells you you should know,
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| then you should know my love,
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| She is strung out on a TV dream,
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| and she’s the taste of gasoline,
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| and she’s as similar as you can get to the shape of a cigarette
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| And she’s in fashion
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| (And the sunshine it blows my mind, and the wind blows my brain). |