Im Jon Platt. No 'H'. If I come across a bit mad, it's cos i am.
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She looks like the real thing
She tastes like the real thing
My fake plastic love.
But I can't help the feeling
I could blow through the ceiling
If I just turn and run.
And it wears me out, it wears me out.
It wears me out, it wears me out.
And if I could be who you wanted
If I could be who you wanted
All the time, all the time.