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Y.s.d.

Dead Artist Syndrome

Whatever happened to the beauty queen?
Stole sailors' hearts from the silver screen,
Slept with the president, and baseball players, studio boss and a couple of waiters,
All her fame, she died alone,
Found her naked in her Hollywood home.

She's young, sexy and dead,
Oh, oh, young, sexy and dead,
Young, sexy and dead,
Young, sexy and dead.

Terror comes to town in a pair of French jeans,
A flight attendant to make the boys scream,
Back in '76 in New York City, all the young dudes were dancing so pretty,
A Halloween later and the village cries as we pray, and light candles, watching people die.

They're young, sexy and dead,
Young, sexy and dead,
Young, sexy and dead,
Young, sexy and dead.

Young, sexy and dead,
Young, sexy and dead,
Young, sexy and dead,
Young, sexy and dead.

You can gain the world while you lose your soul,
In a dangerous place you need self-control,
With Heaven and hell only inches away, you gotta be careful what games you play,
Everybody else will lie and justify,
Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow you die.

You're young, sexy and dead,
Young, sexy and dead,
Young, sexy and dead,
Young, sexy and dead,
Young, sexy and dead,
Oh, oh, young, sexy and dead,
Oh, oh, young, sexy and dead,
Oh, oh, young, sexy and dead,






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