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The love of my life when I was a kid |
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Came by my house this morning |
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We used to dance the afternoons away with Kylie |
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Back when the nineties were dawning |
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The love of my life when I was a kid |
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Used to write me the sweetest letters |
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And one night he shot a couple of birds in a pool |
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Thought it was to impress me |
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He was my older brother's friend and had a light around him |
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that would chase off any winter |
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He had no father and his mother seemed younger than ours |
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And he was a dancer |
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He had the keys to a place where we could practice |
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It felt almost like Dirty Dancing |
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Minus the United States and instead of a resort |
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it was the Folkets Hus basement |
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Aaahhh |
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Well then I became a singer and he became a chimney sweep |
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And a hunter and a father of two so far |
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I got a grand piano and a house with a chimney |
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And this morning he came by to sweep it |
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And we sat on the steps to the house listening |
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To the birds of the coming spring singing |
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He said 'get up on the roof and put up a net, |
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or they will build a nest in your chimney |
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And when I touched his sweepers arm with my piano fingers |
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He said "watch Frida, your hands will get dirty" |
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And I felt like I had a fever |
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The dark powers, the mayflowers |
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The roads on which we travel |
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How he told me no and how my young heart broke |
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And how a cold new world unravelled |
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I guess you do the dirty now and I do the dancing |
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And once we were Baby and Johnny |
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In a small boring town where the winters were long |
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And our real names were Frida and Jimmy |
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Aaahhh |