| Swallow your pride
|
| We’re getting older, you and I
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| And shorn are those short hairs we held them by
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| For such a short time
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| Walk toward the light
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| I know you think we failed at life
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| But smile with your eyes like you’re satisfied
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| And try to act polite
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| You meant what you said
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| They put a price upon your head
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| These places your therapist fears to tread
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| Well, I bet you knocked him dead
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| This cascade of curls
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| Us girls were not long for this world
|
| Rounds of applause and self-sabotage
|
| I guess you got turned on
|
| (Save your breath)
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| And what did you expect?
|
| You had your shot, now perish the thought
|
| (They're yours)
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| But with all due respect
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| We never had the heart to make you start
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| (This dream is all you’ve got)
|
| So who’s left to blame?
|
| Boys raised with hyphenated names
|
| Well middle class slags of a certain age
|
| Well I guess I rest my case
|
| So lift with your knees
|
| They know we’ve nothing up our sleeves
|
| And if speed just makes chalk dust of my back teeth
|
| At least I’ve said my piece
|
| (Save your breath)
|
| And what did you expect?
|
| You lost the plot, now perish the thought
|
| (They're yours)
|
| And with all due respect
|
| You’re mine until the seatbelt sign goes off
|
| Who says dead men don’t talk?
|
| A cascade of curls
|
| Us girls were not long for this world
|
| Rounds of applause and self-sabotage
|
| By now you’ve got turned on |