| Sherry ran away, came to live in the slums
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| Her parents hired detectives, they were posing as bums
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| Her mother said «Sherry Sherry where have you been
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| Taking acid in a crash pad again?»
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| Slum Goddess from the lower East Side
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| Slum Goddess won’t you please be my bride
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| She organized a commune on Avenue A
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| She swears the revolution’s just a pamphlet away
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| One Big Union with peacock feather dues
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| Dope sex revolution pretty paisley hues
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| Slum Goddess from the lower East Side
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| Slum Goddess won’t you please be my bride
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| It was the summer of love, 1967
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| She said, come lie with me and we’ll check into heaven
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| There were 16 mattresses, a candle-wax floor
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| And posters from the love-in on her day-glow door
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| All the poets want to be with her, Sherry
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| Dionysus wants to dance with her, Sherry
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| All the pacifists want to love her, Sherry
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| Ooo Sherry Sherry Sherry
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| Ooo Sherry Sherry Sherry
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| Slum Goddess from the lower East Side
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| Slum Goddess won’t you please be my bride
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| She walks through the park, all the hippie hearts melt
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| Her skirt’s not much wider than a garrison belt
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| She says history’s no mystery
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| Blast the past
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| It’s the hour of power for Blake’s sunflower
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| Slum Goddess from the lower East Side
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| Slum Goddess won’t you please be my bride
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| Slum Goddess from the lower East Side
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| I’m going to make her my bride |