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She yells, "If you're homeless sure as hell you'd be drunk |
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Or high or trying to get there or begging for junk |
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When the people don't want you |
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They just throw you money for beer" |
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Her name was November |
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She went by Autumn or Fall |
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It was 7 long years since the Autumn when |
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All of her nightmares grew fingers and |
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All of her dreams grew a tear |
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She's somebody's baby |
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Somebody's baby girl |
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She's somebody's baby |
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Somebody's baby girl |
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And she's somebody's baby still |
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She screams, "Well if you've never gone it alone |
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Well then go ahead you better throw the first stone |
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You got one lonely stoner |
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Waiting to bring to her knees" |
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She dreams about heaven, remembering hell |
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As the nightmare she visits and knows all too well |
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Every now and again, when she's sober, she brushes her teeth |
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She's somebody's baby |
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Somebody's baby girl |
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She's somebody's baby |
|
Somebody's baby girl |
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And she's somebody's baby still |
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Today was her birthday, strangely enough |
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When the cops found her body at the foot of a bluff |
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The anonymous caller this morning tipped off the police |
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They got her ID from her dental remains |
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The same fillings intact, the same nicotine stains |
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The birth and the death were both over |
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With no one to grieve |
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She's somebody's baby |
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Somebody's baby girl |
|
She's somebody's baby |
|
Somebody's baby girl |
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And she's somebody's baby still |
|
She's somebody's baby still |