| Midday in the underground,
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| There’s a teenage girl selling music for her bed.
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| I’ll be the one that you look upon
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| And thank your lucky stars
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| That you walk in your own shoes.
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| Clip clop past a sleeping bag
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| And a woolly hat
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| Lying open on the ground.
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| Give money and sympathy,
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| Hold your little girl
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| Like you won’t see her again.
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| Does anyone know, the places you go.
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| On a day like today
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| I drink champagne from a straw
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| And I get my own way,
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| He loves me above them all.
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| And there’s no such thing as poor little rich girls
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| On a day like today.
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| I’ve got my all over tan
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| And my tummy tuck,
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| My two babies boy and girl.
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| Big house in the country
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| With expensive bags
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| For my scary little dog.
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| My man sleeps around a bit,
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| Keeps him from my bed,
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| One less job for me to do.
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| I’m the one you look up to And wish on every star
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| For one day in my high shoes.
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| Can anyone hear, it’s hollow in here.
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| On a day like today
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| I drink champagne from a straw
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| And I get my own way,
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| He chose me above them all
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| And there’s no such thing as poor little rich girls
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| In a day like today. |
| A day like today.
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| A day like today. |
| A day like today…
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| Can anyone hear, it’s hollow in here.
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| On a day like today
|
| I drink champagne from a straw
|
| And I get my own way,
|
| He loves me above them all
|
| And there’s no such thing as poor little rich girls
|
| On a day like today.
|
| I drink champagne from a straw
|
| And I get my own way,
|
| He loves me above them all
|
| And there’s no such thing as poor little rich girls
|
| On a day like today. |