| Poetry and angels
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| Flowers and perfume
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| You fill your house with pretty things
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| Pretty things hide the bitter truth
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| Well there’s a fire on the mountain
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| Burning out of control
 | 
| And you’re standing at the top now
 | 
| With nowhere left to go
 | 
| So lock your doors up tight
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| And say a prayer tonight
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| You know it’s hard to keep the demons down
 | 
| When it comes around
 | 
| In the darkness of your room
 | 
| While you’re drinking to your past
 | 
| And living your cartoon
 | 
| Deep down in the gutter they’re calling your name
 | 
| One day it comes around
 | 
| You were such a pretty woman
 | 
| Those were the days
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| One thing’s for sure in this town, baby
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| Being pretty pays
 | 
| All the fame and riches
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| Gonna turn out to be fool’s gold
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| When you look to find shelter in the ones you bought and sold
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| So sad, so alone
 | 
| It cuts right to the bone
 | 
| When you find out how it feels to hit the ground
 | 
| When it comes around
 | 
| In the darkness of your room
 | 
| While you’re drinking to your past
 | 
| And living your cartoon
 | 
| Deep down in the gutter they’re calling your name
 | 
| One day it comes around
 | 
| Turn it off man, I’ve seen too much
 | 
| You better look over your shoulder honey
 | 
| You’re losing your touch
 | 
| Deep down in the gutter or up on the stage
 | 
| One day it comes around
 | 
| It comes around and around and around
 | 
| So lock your doors up tight
 | 
| Say a little prayer tonight
 | 
| You know it’s hard to keep the demons down
 | 
| When it comes around
 | 
| In the darkness of your room
 | 
| While you’re drinking to your past
 | 
| And living your cartoon
 | 
| Deep down in the gutter they’re calling your name
 | 
| One day it comes around
 | 
| Turn it off man, I’ve seen too much
 | 
| You better look over your shoulder honey
 | 
| You’re losing your touch
 | 
| Deep down in the gutter or up on the stage
 | 
| One day it comes around |