| Your days of going through a phase
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| Are finally lashing back at you
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| There’s more to shut up and ignore
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| But there’s even less and less to do
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| And there’s nothing to say, and they’re looking away
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| What have you got yourself into?
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| One little miss apprehension got you
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| Now they’re lining up around the block
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| To watch you screw yourself up
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| For this bitter cup, which pains you the most
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| When it’s too late to say you’re sorry
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| And pretend that it’s a toast-- Naomi
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| You struggle with the reality myth
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| When you’re talking on the tv screen
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| About choke chains and mary janes
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| In Seventeen Magazine
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| And you’re thinking of your JC Penny lingerie
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| That nobody has ever seen
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| No one understands your comments
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| Or why you’re so obsessed with undergarments
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| From multi-cultured pearl to Glamour girl
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| Took less than a day
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| And your Wonderbra world of Disney
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| Was just a make-over away
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| Naomi, it’s just a matter of time
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| What’s that they’re saying now?
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| Oh wow, she looks good in tears
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| That you can’t allow
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| But now you haven’t looked this young in years
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| You look sweet walking down the street
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| But no one’s even slowing down
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| They can’t decide, should they offer you a ride
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| Or the head of Helen Gurley Brown
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| Naomi, it’s just a matter of time |