| Here she comes with her almost ideal eyes
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| and her flawless skin and her petulant pout
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| The memory of such a long blond alibi
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| still makes me want to shout out loud
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| You ************ when you clear your head my dear
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| you can’t come out here in those stolen clothes
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| Telling me all about some mystery
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| I hope she isn’t one, I hope she isn’t one of those
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| Almost ideal eyes
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| Viewed through a rosey hue
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| so beautiful, trusting
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| You find liberal is an insult now and care is what you pay for
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| Be sure of what you’re wishing for, be careful what you pray for
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| When you look into those almost ideal
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| Love is smiles, he will hypnotize you wild
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| He tries to analyze your dreams
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| Fill you up with all his big ideas while he really wants to make you
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| Scream out loud at the phony innocence
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| and pained pretence and the dismal rage.
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| The vacant lot that thankfully time forgot
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| Where you never have to act, you never have to act your age
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| Almost ideal eyes
|
| Viewed through a rosey hue
|
| so beautiful, trusting
|
| you find stupid is a compliment and thrill is what you play for
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| Be sure of what you’re wishing for, be careful what you pray for
|
| When you look into those almost ideal eyes
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| In the spirit (?) all your friends look uglier
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| and you find you’re wearing an evening gown
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| Weeping over some tiny broken bird
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| while the sky is decorated
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| shocking pink and a dirty shade of brown
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| and you think you need to be tranquilized
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| a feat that may fit to your new career
|
| Whatever you invent you’ll never be content with
|
| Almost ideal eyes
|
| Viewed through a rosey hue
|
| so beautiful, trusting
|
| rebellion is just currency, the moon is what you pay for
|
| be sure of what you’re looking for, be careful what you pray for
|
| when you look into those almost ideal eyes
|
| Here she comes, here she comes now… |