| She goes to discos with a hard-running crowd.
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| Dressed up to kill, they never speak very loud.
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| Her style and speed are from another decade,
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| And when she struts the street, she’s on parade.
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| Deco lady, Deco lady, spending money like rice.
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| Deco lady, Deco loving really feels so nice.
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| Her clothes ain’t faggy, draggy Art Nouveau;
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| She’s gold and gilded, Metro-Goldwyn Deco.
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| She drinks manhattans, swizzle stick ebony,
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| And drags a cigarette from ivory.
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| Deco lady, Deco lady, dancing into your heart,
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| Deco lady, deco loving tears your mind apart.
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| Deco lady, don’t need toke smoke coke scenes,
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| Deco lady, deco sleep wakes up to deco dreams.
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| Decked out in satin like a dream movie queen,
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| Bigger than life upon the wide silver screen,
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| Padded shoulders slashed with stripes to her hips,
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| A thousand lines upon her painted lips:
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| Deco lady. |