Words
and music © L J Murphy
Damaged Goods In her riot gear and her tattooed tearHere comes the girl of your dreams With a snide remark and a tartan scarf Thick enough to muffle your screams Now the gentle fist of your analyst Does it hit too close to the bone With the money gone and the blindfold on You could never find your way home Chorus: Begging for mercy and fit to be tied I hope you're finally satisfied Between the lollipops and leather hoods Won't you ever learn to keep your hands off of these damaged goods Was it common sense or a false pretense Did you think that you were immune To the silent charm of a twisted arm You were much too weak to refuse Now the room's a mess and the cocktail dress That was torn and stained by the doubt Is a souvenir of a sad career You'd prefer that we don't talk about (Chorus) And some people will never understand Until they're faced with this ugly truth They're first in line to extract an eye for a tooth Now her brooding face is so commonplace It still hurts when when you're feeling no pain But you barely flinch when the nerve is pinched Though you're struggling to hide the strain And the fingerprints have all vanished since She was fondled beyond repair In a secret land where she felt the hand As if it had really been there (Chorus) *** |
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