| With your red red lips, on your white, white face
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| And your twisted smile, gone down a trace
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| And your father’s money, and your mother’s taste
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| And your sister’s wardrobe all cinched in at the waist
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| What does it matter to me, now that you vanished 'cross the sea?
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| With your dancin' mind, and your sparkling wit
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| And your lit’rary connections that you care for not one bit
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| With your jewelry dripping off your hands, it’s strange
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| I know you’re never gonna change, your ways
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| What does it matter to me, now that you vanished 'cross the sea, yeah?
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| A pearl in the ocean so blue, that’s what I think of when I dream about you
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| With your red red lips on your poor suckling skin
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| And your cocktail dress made for posing in
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| And your father’s money and your mother’s grace
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| You always have your very very own way
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| You’re never gonna change
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| You’re never gonna change, your ways
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| You’re never gonna change, oh my
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| But you’re never gonna change
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| You’re never gonna change! |