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Saint Etienne
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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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