| Sitting here in this dirty bar
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| Watching the trash go by
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| She’s selling cigarettes and lollipops
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| She’s got a sparkle in her black eye
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| She says «Maybe my time will come»
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| Maybe my time will come
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| He said he’d sweep her off her feet
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| Defying all of gravity
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| Well she’d move any bright city
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| To fill this gaping cavity… she says
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| I’m a slave in this empty life
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| Diggin' my grave I’m his newspaper wife
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| Well he must have a very small broom
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| As she sits in this very large room
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| Maybe it’s just a piece of straw
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| She says why am I so in awe?
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| I’m a slave to this empty life
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| Diggin' my grave I’m his newspaper wife
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| I’m ashamed of this meaningless life
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| Diggin' my grave I’m his newspaper wife
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| She sits across from him
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| Drinking her coffee
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| His face is buried in other people’s lives, she says
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| «I wonder if he’s gonna read forever
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| I’m his newspaper wife
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| I’m a slave to this empty life
|
| Diggin' my grave I’m his newspaper wife
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| I’m ashamed of this meaningless life
|
| Diggin' my grave I’m his newspaper wife |