| Jenny I read something you said about
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| Rock and roll and life and death
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| Ah, Jenny I read they carried you home
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| Broken, beaten all alone
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| Oh, Jenny you said
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| Jenny you thought
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| Give them all that they want
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| Everything that you got
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| Oh, Jenny my dear
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| It’s a wicked city
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| Once you’re young, stupid and pretty
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| And all the angry young boys (and all the angry young girls)
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| They’re making angry loud noises (kicking back at the world)
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| And all the angry young boys (and all the angry young girls)
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| Jenny they cried
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| Jenny they screamed
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| Your picture in every magazine
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| Yeah, ya wanted it all
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| But the American dream was nothing to write home about
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| She was the next big thing
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| And the telephone was ringing all of the time
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| You were wined and dined every night
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| Then one day it was over
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| And where are you now they wonder
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| And all the angry young boys (and all the angry young girls)
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| They’re making angry loud noises (kicking back at the the world)
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| And all the angry young boys (and all the angry young girls)
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| Superstar, that’s what you are
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| And all the angry young boys (and all the angry young girls)
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| They’re making angry loud noises (kicking back at the the world)
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| And all the angry young boys (and all the angry young girls)
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| Behind their, their fingers
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| Eyes aside
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| In sharp windy whispers
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| They say it’s her
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| It is her
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| What happened to her
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| She knows this
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| And she smiles
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| She doesn’t look anything
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| Anything like her pictures
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| She used to be
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| She used to be
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| She used to be
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| But she knows this and she smiles
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| For she has the miles and memories all to herself
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| Everything in between then and now
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| And all her images of everything in between now and then
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| And all they have are pictures
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| Pictures |