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(pam sawyer/r. dean taylor/frank wilson/deke richards) |
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Tenement slum |
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You think that i don't feel love |
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But what i feel for you is real love |
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In other's eyes i see reflected |
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A hurt, scorned, rejected |
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Love child, never meant to be |
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Love child, born in poverty |
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Love child, never meant to be |
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Love child, take a look at me |
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I started my life in an old, cold run down tenement slum |
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My father left, he never even married mom |
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I shared the guilt my mama knew |
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So afraid that others knew i had no name |
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This love we're contemplating |
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Is worth the pain of waiting |
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We'll only end up hating |
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The child we maybe creating |
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Love child, never meant to be |
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Love child, (scorned by) society |
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Love child, always second best |
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Love child, different from the rest |
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Mm, baby (hold on, hold on, just a little bit) |
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Mm, baby (hold on, hold on, just a little bit) |
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I started school, in a worn, torn, dress that somebody threw out |
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I knew the way it felt, to always live in doubt |
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To be without the simple things |
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So afraid my friends would see the guilt in me |
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Don't think that i don't need you |
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Don't think i don't wanna please you |
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No child of mine 'll be bearing |
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The name of shame i've been wearing |
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Love child, love child, never quite as good |
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Afraid, ashamed, misunderstood |
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But i'll always love you |
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I'll always love you |
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I'll always love you |
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I'll always love you |
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I'll always love you |
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I'll always love you |