| Angelene
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| She’s such a pretty thing
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| All dolled up in her hip-huggin' jeans
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| Mama’s heels and her ruby red rouge
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| Sneakin' out while her daddy’s passed out
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| Hangin' out with the wrong crowd
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| She’s got all the right moves
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| And she’s givin' away little pieces of her innocence
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| She don’t know what she’s lookin' for
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| She just knows something’s missin'
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| Oh, Angelene, can’t you see
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| What you need ain’t what you’re gettin'
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| Oh, Angelene, you’re bein' used
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| Save some of that love for you
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| Angelene
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| Angelene is sure that he’s the cure
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| He’s got a kind of reckless allure
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| Like a fast ride on the wild side
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| So she turns her cheek
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| When he’s havin' a mean streak
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| And if you ask her real sweet
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| She won’t look you in the eye
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| And she’s callin' it love, ah
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| But there is no resemblance
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| It’s a drive down a dead end street
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| On the past of most resistance
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| Yeah, she’s givin' away little pieces of her innocence
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| She don’t know what she’s lookin' for
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| She just knows something’s missin' |