| Well she was a millionaire before she was fourteen
|
| But there was an emptiness there
|
| That to practically everyone else could be seen
|
| She hit up on the drug of love though there was no hole in her arm
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| But there was a hole some place else
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| About as big as daddy’s ten thousand acre farm
|
| Oh, she was dying for it for all the world to see
|
| Ah, she was as good as she could be
|
| Well she had a baby at eighteen, never finished high school
|
| Her husband beat her for money and sex
|
| Till that Cadillac finally ran out of fuel
|
| One disaster led to another, down to her and her baby son
|
| Born with a silver spoon in her mouth
|
| Headed south now cause she was never born to run
|
| Oh, she was dying for it for all the world to see
|
| Ah, she was as good as she could be
|
| Yeah, she was crying for it, some credibility
|
| Ah, she was as good as she could be
|
| Well her momma died last year
|
| And her daddy, he called her back home
|
| But when he opened the door he could not recognize
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| This specter of hair and bone, but it was his own baby child
|
| Though she looked like an old woman now
|
| Well she lived ten lifetimes in five years
|
| Anywhere that the law would allow
|
| Oh, she was dying for it for all the world to see
|
| Ah, she was as good as she could be
|
| Yeah, she was crying for it, some credibility
|
| Ah, she was as good as she could be
|
| Yeah, she was good as she could be
|
| Ah, she was good as she could be |