| Well there’s a house
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| In an alley
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| In the squats and low-rise
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| Of a town with no future
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| But that’s where my future lies
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| It’s a secret, but no secret
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| It’s a rule, but no rule
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| Where you find the darkest avenue
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| There you’ll find the brightest jewel
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| Now my name, it is Mulvaney
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| And I’m known quite famously
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| People speak my name in whispers
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| What higher praise can there be?
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| But I’d trade my fine mohair
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| For tie dyes and faded jeans
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| If she wanted me some other way
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| She’s my Cooks-ferry queen
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| She gave me one pill to get big
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| She gave me one pill to get small
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| I saw snakes dancing all around her feet
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| And dead men comin through the walls
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| Well I’m the prince of this parish
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| I’ve been ruthless and I’ve been mean
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| But she blew my mind and she opened my eyes
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| She’s my Cooks-ferry queeen
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| Ahhhhhh …
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| Well she’s got every rare perfection
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| All her looks beyond compare
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| She’s got dresses that seem to float in the wind
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| Pre-Raphelite curls in her hair
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| She could get the lame to walking
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| She could get the blind to see
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| She could make wine out of Thames River water
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| She could make a believer out of me Yes I’d trade it all tomorrow
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| All the wicked things I’ve been
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| She’s my bright jewel of the alley
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| She’s my Cooks-ferry Queen
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| Yes, I’d trade it all tomorrow
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| All the wicked things I’ve been
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| She’s my bright jewel of the alley
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| She’s my Cooks-ferry Queen
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| Ohhhhhh … |