| Stepping out onto the stage the smalltown star tonight
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| Flexes out for fame and fortune into the lights
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| The way she tears into the heart makes me realise
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| That I never understood hatred until I looked into those eyes
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| She cries, «No one’s going to talk down to me again
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| No one’s ever going to patronise me again
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| I’m going to get out of this town, steal myself a crown
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| I’m going to get myself some power
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| If it’s the last thing that I do»
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| Heading out of Bradford with a ticket on the train
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| And a faith as hard as steel and as sharp as any pain
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| Gets pictures in the papers smiling oh so good
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| While she lies in bed with racing dreams hot as blood
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| Because love will make you happy and love will keep you warm
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| And love will build a cushion to keep you safe from harm
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| But hate will drive you onwards, hate will drive you upwards
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| Till you can get back all the bastards
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| Who ever tried to put you down
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| And when she’s gone forever, please don’t lay her down to rest
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| In a quiet little churchyard along with all the rest
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| Throw a great big party to remember that she lived
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| Give her headlines on the TV to remember who she is
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| 'Cause no one’s ever going to talk down to her again
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| No one’s ever going to patronise her again
|
| She’s going to get out of this town, steal herself a crown
|
| She’s going to get herself some power
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| If it’s the last thing that she does
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| If it’s the one thing that she does
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| If it’s the only thing that she ever does |