| Oh Judy do you remember me
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| I’m second from the left in the black hat
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| We gave away our innocence when we were fifteen
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| And since then I’ve been trying to get mine back
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| You were the cutest of the crop
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| I was the second biggest drinker in the whole hip flock
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| And everybody thought we were headed for the rocks
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| But I guess that I got lost
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| So take a look at these flash-lit photographs, you beautiful fake
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| Don’t I look like the kind of guy you used to hate?
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| Well it was summer, I think, when you said to me
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| «Let's just run away»
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| But somewhere on that road I got married to monotony
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| And that’s what pays this wage
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| And these tiny symbols of success
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| Like my black chauffeurs forced friendliness
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| Are less the spoils of spiritual wealth
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| Then symptoms of distress
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| So take a look at these flash-lit photographs, you beautiful fake
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| Don’t I look like the kind of guy you used to hate?
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| Now everybody thinks that it’s respectable
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| To get up like a dog each day
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| But you used to say, «Just shoot me baby
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| If I ever end up that way»
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| So take a look at these flash-lit photographs, you beautiful fake
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| Don’t I look like the kind of guy
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| Don’t I look like the kind of guy
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| Now I look like the kind of guy you used to hate |