| Pure, white and deadly is my love
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| Oh, like a vicious knife she’ll cut ya and hurt ya and ruin your life
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| Oh, like a plunging scar she’ll jump in your brain and desex your heart
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| Swap you up and swab you up and lick your wounds when the bleeding starts
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| It doesn’t matter if you shoot her or dream her
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| It doesn’t matter if she’s a girl or a man
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| It doesn’t matter if you buy her or steal her
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| She’s Christine Keeler, she’s Peter Pan
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| Pure, white and deadly is my fear
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| Oh, like an angry man, lash her and slash her, and spoonfeed you sound
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| Oh, like a shooting star you’ll fall out of sight and dsex your eyes
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| Mak him scream, make her dream, with a pack of lies
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| It doesn’t matter if you shoot her or dream her
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| It doesn’t matter if she’s a girl or a man
|
| It doesn’t matter if you buy her or steal her
|
| She’s Christine Keeler, she’s Peter Pan
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| Pure, white and deadly is my death
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| Oh, like an acid burn, hurting and flirting, always nearer your turn
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| In another day, in another year, like a dog at your throat
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| Tuning your voice, leave you no choice, there’s no suicide note
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| It doesn’t matter if you shoot her or dream her
|
| It doesn’t matter if she’s a girl or a man
|
| It doesn’t matter if you buy her or steal her
|
| She’s Christine Keeler, she’s Peter Pan |