| Lipstick and lashes, the traces of stardom
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| Lit up on a billboard so everyone sees them in neon
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| Behind the counter she stares out the window
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| Up at the billboard that’s like a reminder in neon
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| She hates how she feels but she hangs like a mirror
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| Maybe a stranger could walk in and see her in neon
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| For two cents of danger she’d trust anybody
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| She’d smoke like a gun if it meant she might wind up In neon the dreams in the light of a promise that dies
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| A shimmering city, a glimmer of hope and a lie
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| In neon the name’s gone there’s no reason why anymore
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| Trust them and wind up alone behind a locked door
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| In neon, in neon
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| Pictures and patterns, the touches of glamour
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| Cut into a fashion that flashes above them in neon
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| A hot cup of coffee held in her fingers
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| A perfect complexion that lingers above her in neon
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| She hates how she feels but she hangs like a mirror
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| Maybe a stranger could walk in and see her in neon
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| For a shot at the title, she’d slip into something
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| She’d smoulder like ashes if it meant she might wind up in neon
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| In neon |