| Born and raised in wilderness
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| Of suburban shops and schools
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| How she tried and tried to be satisfied
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| With a job on the typing pool
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| She hated the smell of carbon paper
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| The office so smoky and dry
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| How she longed for the day she would make her get away
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| And say her last goodbye
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| Bows and bangles on her fingers
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| And silver bells on her toes
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| That lady has music where she wonders
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| That lady has music where she goes
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| Married a guy with prospects
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| And so became his wife
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| And that my friend is the end of the story
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| 'Cos that was the rest of his life
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| She could have been a movie star
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| She could have made the scene
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| Right or wrong she still hangs on Each night to her favourite dream
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| Bows and bangles on her fingers
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| And silver bells on her toes
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| That lady has music where she wonders
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| That lady has music where she goes |