| When you were 15, my love
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| You put your head through hell:
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| Your body was clean, sweet love
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| But oh, your life was far from being well
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| When you were 16, my love
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| You’d come to be quite wise:
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| So much had you seen, sweet love
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| Your face went deathly pale with hollow eyes
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| You burned yourself out, you burned yourself out
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| You did yourself in, and then
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| From all of the noise, the pills, and the boys
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| You burned yourself out again
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| And then you turned 17
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| I took you, like a game
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| But others had known you well
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| And taught you every move that I could name
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| So then you gave up on love
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| And lived off ups and downs
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| The strangers would pick you up
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| And take you in the back to other towns
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| You burned yourself out, you burned yourself out
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| And wound up in Idaho
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| You married a cop, the babies don’t stop
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| There’s no further out to go
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| You burned yourself out, you burned yourself out
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| You did yourself in, and then
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| From all that you blamed, you flared up and flamed
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| And burned yourself out again
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| You burned yourself out |