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Saint Etienne » Hate Your Drug |
Like four paper-dolls / all heavy with sleep, /
They hold you like a baby, / your body so weak. /
They lay you on a white bed, / almost dead at nineteen, /
Like four paper dolls / all heavy with sleep. /
And with your blonde hair / all over my dress, /
Your heart had stopped beating, / your head on my chest, /
And i told you for the last time / that i loved you best. /
And with your blonde hair / all over my dress.
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