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It's Saturday night, it feels like a Sunday in some ways
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If you had any sense, you'd maybe go away for a few days
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Be that as it may, you can only say you are lonely
|
You are but a young girl working your way through the
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phonies
|
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Cafe on, milk gone, such a sad light and fading.
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Yourself you touch, but not too much. You hear it's
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degrading.
|
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The flowers on your stockings wilting away in the midnight
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The book you are reading is someone's opinion of moonlight
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Your skin is so white, you'd like maybe to go to bed soon
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Just closing your eyes if you're to rise up before noon
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High heels, car wheels, all the losers are groovin'
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Your dream, strange scene, images are movin'
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Your friends they are making a pop star or two every evening
|
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You know that scene backwards, they can't see the patterns
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they're weaving
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Your friends they're all models but you soon got over that
|
one
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You sit in your one room a little brought down in London
|
|
Cafe on, milk gone, such a sad light and fading.
|
Yourself you touch, but not too much. You hear it's
|
degrading.
|
|
It's Saturday night, it feels like a Sunday in some ways
|
If you had any sense, you'd maybe go away for a few days
|
Be that as it may, you can only say you are lonely
|
You are but a young girl working your way through the
|
phonies
|
|
|
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-----------------
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Young Girl Blues
|
Donovan |