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The Smiths - Rusholme Ruffians lyrics
The last night of the fair By the big wheel generator A boy is stabbed And his money is grabbed And the air hangs heavy like a dulling wine She is Famous She is Funny An engagement ring Doesn't mean a thing To a mind consumed by brass (money) And though I walk home alone I might walk home alone ... ...But my faith in love is still devout The last night of the fair From a seat on a whirling waltzer Her skirt ascends for a watching eye It's a hideous trait (on her mother's side) From a seat on a whirling waltzer Her skirt ascends for a watching eye It's a hideous trait (on her mother's side) And though I walk home alone I might walk home alone ... ...But my faith in love is still devout Then someone falls in love And someone's beaten up Someone's beaten up And the senses being dulled are mine And someone falls in love And someone's beaten up And the senses being dulled are mine And though I walk home alone I might walk home alone ... ...But my faith in love is still devout This is the last night of the fair And the grease in the hair Of a speedway operator Is all a tremulous heart requires A schoolgirl is denied She said: |
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