| She was the girl in the very front row
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| Always waitin’after the show
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| She was the queen of the hollywood hills
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| Knew the stars, the bars, the pimps and pills
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| Somebody’s climbin’on a greyhound tonight
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| Too much lipstick and her dress real tight
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| Looks like a woman but she ain’t quite
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| No, not quite
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| She’s somebody’s baby
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| She’s somebody’s mother’s child
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| She may look like a lady
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| But she’s just a flower grown wild
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| They never knew you by your childhood name
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| But they were drawn to you like moths to a flame
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| Nobody saw the tears in your silk n’lace
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| Or the scarred little kid behind your face
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| Just remember when you hold her tight
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| What you’re holding in your arms tonight
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| She’s no angel, but that’s alright
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| Ya that’s alright
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| She’s somebody’s baby
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| She’s somebody’s mother’s child
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| She may look like a lady
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| But she’s just a flower grown wild
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| Just another little pretty thing
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| Another angel with a broken wing
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| Who fell to earth 'neath the hollywood hills
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| Amid the stars and the bars, the pimps and pills
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| Just like the girl on the movie screen
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| She played it up until the very last scene
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| The picture faded and the day was done
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| Went home to nothin but a loaded gun
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| Somebody’s climbing on a greyhound tonight
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| A little angel flyin’out of sight
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| Looks like a woman but she ain’t quite
|
| No, not quite |