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Sweet sixteen and never been cleaned |
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All that dirt can make you vain |
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But after everything they out you through |
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They don't believe you |
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Like a flower forced to bloom |
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Before the sun hits the ridge |
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And here you come walking up with a smile |
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They don't believe you |
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How could you explain? It couldn't seem right |
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But f you stare at the sun long enough through a hole |
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You can almost believe you've gone blind |
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But those parts ain't the same |
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And so you remain |
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On the wing, as the movements and shadows take out |
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Everything that you tried to explain |