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Titel
Songtekst
The clock has ticked eleven and the place is clear reality is kicking in and so is my beer I don't make excuses when it's all my fault if a heart is made of money he's cleaned out my vault I feel a little wounded and it isn't fair to sit inside a parlour and see him standing over there as smug as a robber that a cop can't catch the lipstick on his collar doesn't seem to match mine Doesn't seem to match mine Now Joe behind the bar is offering advice Cause I'm a broken record and he has to tell me twice why don't I understand that he just can't change I wanna be his woman not his weekend dame Now Joe his eyes are rollin' says it's just too bad And he'll be back tomorrow on my heart-beat crash I'd like to say goodbye, but hello is the match though the lipstick on his collar never seems to match mine Doesn't seem to match mine This line is disconnected
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