| In every car that passes me on the street
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| I search for the particular face
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| The lipstick trembles under boomlights
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| The lipstick my own brothers only trace
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| Was the birthday birthday ashtray
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| Carried all along this way now (and)
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| It was a gift from my little sister
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| On the very same day they took her away
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| And it’s painted cherry red, cherry red now
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| All your dreams are cherry red inside your head
|
| And it’s painted cherry red, cherry red now
|
| All your dreams are cherry red inside
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| In Hollywood I got the phone call
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| That made my heart and my limosine stall
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| Falling down in the hotel hall again
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| Little drunk from the Warners' Christmas ball
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| Cut by love and cut by switchblade
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| He’s been gone nearly half a decade
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| Cut by love and cut by switchblade
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| He’s been gone nearly half a decade
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| I still remember my brother
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| I see his face on the billboards
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| And the polaroids that stayed on my pillow 'til the very sunset
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| Said, great day
|
| And it’s painted cherry red, cherry red now
|
| All your dreams are cherry red inside your head
|
| And it’s painted cherry red, cherry red now
|
| All your dreams are cherry red inside
|
| And it’s painted cherry red, cherry red now
|
| All your dreams are cherry red inside your head
|
| And it’s painted cherry red, cherry red now
|
| All your dreams are cherry red inside |