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Everyday i see you wearing things that have never been worn before |
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While the children at the government schools send money for the poor |
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And all you buy you bargain for, with your little man |
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So that from your silks down to your paramour |
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Your tres, tres, paragon |
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So it's a backbeach in the summer |
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The chalet for the snow |
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You poor hoochie gucci fiorucci mama |
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You got really no place to go |
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Antiques flown in from Venice fill your house upon the hill |
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While your money sold the soul love of rock and roll |
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For some cheap disco thrill |
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I've seen your peers pouting over beers |
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The loneliness it showed |
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Mistaking tacky sex for sensuality |
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They bought in Toorak Road |
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So it's a backbeach in the summer |
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The chalet for the snow |
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You poor hoochie gucci fiorucci mama |
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You got really no place to go |
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Inside her empty castle |
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Her lonely heart will dwell |
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The life that she's been losing's |
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Like some stony bagatelle |
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The loving that you never found |
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You don't know the reason why |
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Oh hoochie gucci fiorucci mama |
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Don't you cry |