Look out through your dark hair,
tell me the colour of your eyes when they`re cool;
look out through the dark ages
and tell me what`s covert, transfixing you.
Oh, you`re nobody`s business,
oh, you`re nobody`s business
and the patterns of your life
are suddenly twisted and torn
and gone are all the clothes that you`ve worn.
Just like yesterday`s papers
you`re tired and forlorn
and you`re no-one.
Look back at the photos you`ve saved,
dead mementoes of your modelling days;
I look through all my cuttings of you,
but they all seem so lost, so dead, out of phase.
Oh, you`re nobody`s business....
I think back to the girl that I knew--
she doesn`t seem so very much like you:
she used to care about her smile and not her face...
that`s before it was her fortune and took over her soul`s place.
Oh, you`re nobody`s business....
Papering yesterday`s pages,
tapering off in the storm,
you`re no-one.
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