| I dreamt that I screwed every stupid actress in LA
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| I dreamt that I was holding them and told them it’d be okay
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| It’s not easy being famous anyways
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| So famous people say
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| 'Cause everyone that you meet just wants to screw you
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| And you can’t complain
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| And it’s a shame, she’d be a queen back in Rhode Island
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| Now she waits in line with the other sad clichés
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| And besides, she’s really not so sexy and wild
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| That was just the part she had to play
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| I dreamt that I saved every stupid actress in LA
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| And every aging waitress who gave it up
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| And had to change back her name
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| They floated out of every coke-fueled party
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| Every over-priced café
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| But that was just some dream I had
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| And when I woke up nothing changed
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| Even though she don’t have grace like Greta Garbo
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| Even though she don’t have eyes like Clara Bow
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| That leather glove could pluck you from the huddled mass tomorrow
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| And toss you through a gilded puff of smoke
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| I dreamt that I was every stupid actress in LA
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| I dreamt it that you meant it when you said that
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| You would come and see my play
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| You sat there and you watched me
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| And you thought it was pretty good for a pretty face
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| And wondered, if I had a soul to sell
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| Would it get bought, or just thrown away?
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| The statue of infamy, it gazes down in silence
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| From its perch up there in the Hollywood Hills
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| Give me your crazy and your desperate and your beautiful but inspired
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| I’ll give them glamour, give them thrills
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| And to me there’s nothing sad about a dream
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| She screamed as she swan dove from a pearly-white H
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| Those nobodies back home, they only dream while they’re asleep
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| Not you and me babe we keep ours through the day |