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I heard a story all about you |
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I heard the secrets, maybe they're true |
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I read the papers, I read the news |
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I hear the gossip all about you |
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They say that you're really not so prim and prude |
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Behind it all you're rather rude |
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And really go for younger men |
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Italian types and lots of them |
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I can't believe it baby, |
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Maybe it's true |
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Honey, honey, honey! |
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Do it for the money |
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I heard the stories |
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On Saturday night, out in the back room |
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After one or two lies |
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Your name is mentioned |
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It gives me a fright |
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Dishonorable mention |
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Puts you in a new light |
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You've been going downtown slave romancing |
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Nasty, mean and fancy dancing |
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With your nose in plastic bags |
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People talk and tongues all wag |
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I can't believe it baby |
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I've been a fool |
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'Cause scales have just fell from my eyes |
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You can't keep up your disguise |
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Tell me about your adventures in living |
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I won't write a word of libel |
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Swear it on a thousand Bibles |
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But, I admit, I have got my misgivings |
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Maybe it's true |
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Honey, honey, honey! |
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Do it for the money |
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I read the papers, I read the news |
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I scan the columns for pictures of you |
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You with the husband, you with the mayor, you with the kids |
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Now who are you kidding, who you kidding? |
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How can you dare? |
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While you are the mistress of a mafia man |
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Who's working for the Vatican |
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And all your money crisply ironed in off-shore banks |
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Your friends are kind |
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I can't believe it baby |
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Maybe it's true |
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Honey, honey, honey! |
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Do it for the money |
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Yeah, you've been a nasty girl |
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Yeah, you've been bad |
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You've been bad, you've been bad |
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You better come over here |
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And take your punishment |
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Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad |
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Honey, honey, honey |
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Do it for the money. |