| Candy took a walk
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| Deep into Manhattan
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| Sold her soul to the devil there
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| Now she can’t get it back — no she can’t get it back
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| She’s waiting in a phone booth
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| For a man to come save her
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| But he’s taken every dollar that she made
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| And she can’t get it back — no she can’t get it back
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| Jesus is in heaven and Mary’s in the stable
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| But Candy’s got nowhere to go to sleep
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| Her poppa’s in the graveyard and her momma’s back in Kansas
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| Praying to the angels of the weak
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| For Candy’s soul to keep
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| Candy was a boy
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| Who never played no ball games
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| Missed out on every ride at the fair
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| Now she can’t get it back — no she can’t get it back
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| Candy feels the breeze
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| And heads out on the highway
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| No one’s gonna miss her when she’s gone
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| No they won’t have her back — no they won’t get her back
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| Jesus is in heaven and Judas’s in jailhouse
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| Chasing our poor Candy round the cell
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| Where are all the saints and where are all the angels
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| Why is every day a living hell — a living hell
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| Now Candy wants to die but can’t afford the burial
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| Mama doesn’t want her and won’t pay
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| No she won’t take her back — no she won’t take her back
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| So Candy has a plan
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| She’ll ride out on the beltway
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| Take the road until she dissapears
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| And they won’t get her back — no they won’t get her back
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| She can’t get it back — no she won’t get it back
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| Can’t get it — don’t get it
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| Can’t get it — won’t get it |