You could feel, a lot of doubt
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On the runway, and in her murder walk, you could tell
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Maybe it's how she fell
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When she saw you, maybe it's how she fell
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Like some bright orange pumps
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It was the murder mystery she didn't want
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She put her claws deep in your arm and
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It made the tracks go all red
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Pull yourself together, hon.
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Or heaven's just in your head.
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When the bulbs had all broke and hit the ground
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There was hardly any sound, yeah yeah yeah yeah
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Then you see a lot of doubt... And then they knew
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All along it was you.
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It's too late now
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Cause breaking up's hard to do
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-----------------
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Claws Tracking
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Spoon |