| Revolving Dora
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| Hits the floor alone again
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| See her spinning, see her grinning at her imaginary friends
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| She’s in her own rotating world
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| There’s something blurry about that girl
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| Oh yeah
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| And she’s turning out to be
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| Immune to gravity
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| She’s a lot like you
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| Not much like me
|
| Oh yeah
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| Revolving Dora Seems so sure about it all
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| She knows the score
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| So long before the morning papers make the call
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| And she’s searching around the dial
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| For a song that’ll make her smile
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| And she’s turning out to be
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| Immune to gravity
|
| And I don’t know the degree
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| Of her grip on reality
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| But she sure has got a hold on me
|
| Oh yeah |