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They're writing songs of love, but not for me. |
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A lucky star's above, but not for me. |
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With love to lead the way |
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I've found more clouds of grey |
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than any Russain play could guarantee. |
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I was a fool to fall and get that way; |
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Heigh-ho! Alas! And also, lack-a-day! |
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Although I can't dismiss the mem'ry of his kiss, |
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I guess he's mot for me. |
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He's knocking on a door, but not for me. |
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He'll plan a two by four, but not for me. |
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I know that love's a game; |
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I'm puzzled, just the same, |
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was I the moth or flame? |
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I'm all at sea. |
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It all began so well, but what an end! |
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This is the time a feller needs a friend, |
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when ev'ry happy plot ends with the marriage knot, |
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and there's no knot for me. |