| That Charlie Sedarka was a-playing the piano
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| Like he was pawing a dirty book
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| He bit a hole in his big bottom lip and gave his
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| Very best little boy look
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| It was a song with a topical verse which I’m
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| Afraid he then proceeded to sing
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| Something about the moody doomed love of
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| The Fish-Finger King
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| You’re nobody in this town
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| You’re nobody in this crowd
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| You’re nobody till everybody in this town
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| Thinks you’re poison
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| Got your number knows it must be avoided
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| You’re nobody till everybody in this town
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| Thinks you’re a bastard
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| Mr. Getgood moved up to Self-Made Man Row
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| Although he swears that he’s the salt of the earth
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| He’s so proud of the «kick-me-hard» sign that
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| They hung on his back at birth
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| He said «I appreciate beauty, if I have one, then
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| It’s my fault»
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| «Beauty is on my pillow, beauty is there in
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| My vault»
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| The girl with the eternity rock went down on
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| Her bookie to buy some stock
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| Now all her signs in the shopping arcades say
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| «The corporation thief is The New Jesse James»
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| Her clothes and her attention were scant, her
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| Eyes were everywhere
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| Her eyes were like absinthe
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| The little green figures that dance on his screen
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| Say everything you want to hear and nothing
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| They mean
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| They made love while she was changing her dress
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| She wiped him off she wiped him out and then
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| She made him confess
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| A little amused by the belief in her power
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| You must remember this it was the fetish of
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| The hour |