| Someone’s husband pays your rent with stack and stacks of presidents
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| They blow it like it’s counterfeit believe me
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| They’ll feed you lines and alcohol and one by one they’ll pay for all the
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| little thing you do that make you sick
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| You keep on running for your purse
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| The waitress said it’s getting worse
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| Try and try you can’t reverse it now
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| And I said you do nothing but hurt me
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| But you do it right, you do it right, you got it so right
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| And I said you do nothing but hurt me
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| But you do it right, you get it right, you got it so right
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| Counting singles, fives and tens, the last call lights are back again
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| But that won’t stop the gentlemen believe me
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| They got ashtray smiles and dirty eyes, you’re not afraid to compromise,
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| any virus in a shirt and tie can tell
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| Keep on running for your purse
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| The waitress
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| Said it’s getting worse
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| Try and try you can’t reverse it now
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| I don’t ever gamble, but I’d bet you fucking life is going, going, going, gone
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| There’s something you should know: there’s so much you don’t know
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| Down in the alley behind your apartment
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| We fall apart and we breathe it in
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| I get off but I know that I’m just as bad as them
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| Down in the alley behind your apartment
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| You smoke and tell me it’s nothing real
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| Just something we need, just something to feel |