| A snakeskin shoe locked in his cupboard
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| A collected memento from a distant affair
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| Well I am the woman that it once belonged to
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| It’s lingering presence warns you to beware
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| Do you ever wonder why he still keeps it?
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| Do you even know if I gave back his key?
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| You said you’d discovered five ways to end it
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| Well Barbara I’m sorry, you didn’t fool me
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| It wouldn’t take more than five days to disown him…
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| Finish him with five ways to end it…
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| I find there’s more Hattie Jacques in his fancies
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| He wanted a woman to cling to you see
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| Drunk in the bath with his matronly missus
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| She’d make him happy when he could be with me
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| He takes all his women for decadent dinners
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| But expensive restaurants don’t mean a thing
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| When was the last time he grabbed you and kissed you?
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| I know you remember how it used to be
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| It wouldn’t take more than five days to disown him…
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| Finish him with five ways to end it…
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| (Silk suspenders in his drawer
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| Should be telling you so much more
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| But you’re affraid to look behind incase you find
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| The passport photos of someone who went before
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| How are you gonna do this?
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| Walk away from everything you know?
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| Where will you go?
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| I don’t know
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| He’s been doing this for years and can’t carry on
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| This is no Peter Roger’s Production
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| He’ll never be there
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| When you’re feeling depressed and you want him to care
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| You lie together in bed every night
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| You’ve never felt less loved.)
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| End in sight, Sunday night
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| He’s on the sofa — you did it alright
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| Take him out for a drink
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| Then tell him you’re leaving and watch him sink
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| You found out who you are
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| Now walk away slowly — you’re going to go far
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| Loving him will always hurt
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| And having those feelings will only break your heart… |