| Back in high school I knew a girl
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| Not too simple and not too kind
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| We both grew up, but I heard she’d changed
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| From a new wave fan to another kind
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| She think’s she’s edith head
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| But you might know she’s not
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| The accent in her speech
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| She didn’t have growing up
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| She think’s she’s edith head
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| Or helen girlie brown
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| Or some other cultural figure
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| We don’t know a lot about
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| It’s been years since I moved away
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| But at christmas I come home
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| And I saw her reflection
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| In the window of a store
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| She was talking to herself
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| Not too simple and not too kind
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| I walked on by, it was complicated
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| And it stuck in my mind
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| She think’s she’s edith head
|
| But you might know she’s not
|
| The accent in her speech
|
| She didn’t have growing up
|
| The accent in her speech
|
| She didn’t have growing up
|
| The accent in her speech
|
| She didn’t have growing up
|
| She think’s she’s edith head
|
| She think’s she’s edith head now
|
| She think’s she’s edith head
|
| She think’s she’s edith head now
|
| She think’s she’s edith head
|
| She think’s she’s edith head now
|
| She think’s she’s edith head
|
| She think’s she’s edith head now |