| Look at young girls with your television eyes
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| Fixated on nothing, telling dispicable lies
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| We play on your obsession with candy
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| And you do what we want you to
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| So play that guitar
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| And bring order to the stars
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| Turn up your stereos and drive around in your cars
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| And don’t think about coming back home until you’ve never gone anywhere
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| 'Cos you are not sure if you are going up or down
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| Expectations go out the window when Mr. Woman comes to town
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| 'Cos when you talk nobody listens
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| You shoot to kill but you keep missing
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| They got you running round in circles but it’s hip to be square
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| Tonight’s special paranoia with a side of despair
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| Oh ho!
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| And one and one and one and one and one, I’m pretty sure adds up to five
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| Teenage alcoholics can be oh-so entertaining when they drive
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| Yeah!
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| 'Cos turning people into product is easy
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| Turning idiots into stars is easier
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| The robots and the cockroaches are gonna be the only survivors
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| They’re gnawing at minds with our sights and their sounds
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| And this is no time for fucking around
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| You can’t be sure if you are going up or down
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| Expectations go out the window when Mr. Woman comes to town
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| When Mr. Woman comes to town
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| You can’t be sure if you are going up or down
|
| You can’t be sure if you are going up or down
|
| You can’t be sure if you are going up or down
|
| Expectations go out the window when Mr. Woman comes to town |