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There she blows, Jacques Cousteau |
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Hear her sing so sweet and low |
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Lull me overboard, out cold |
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Gathered in and swallowed whole |
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Do I want to with all that charm? |
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Do I want to twist my arm? |
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Do I want to with all that charm? |
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Do I want to twist my arm? |
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You just hit me where I live |
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I guess it looked quite primitive |
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What was that supposed to prove? |
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Throw the calf or he'll throw you |
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Do I want to with all that charm? |
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Do I want to twist my arm? |
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Do I want to with all that charm? |
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Do I want to twist my arm? |
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Sucked in by the victim world |
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Thirsty as a cultured pearl |
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Culled and wooed, bitten, chewed |
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It won't hurt if you don't move |
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Do I want to with all that charm? |
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Do I want to twist my arm? |
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Do I want to with all that charm? |
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Do I want to twist my arm? |
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Yeah; Musical chairs, double dares, memorized stairs |
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Shooting off flares, springtime hares, broken-down mares |
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Yeah; Cowered phones, big soup stones, prideless loans |
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Grill-sick crows, motel moans and big fat Jones |
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Woo woo |
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Martyrs don't do much for me |
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Though I enjoy them vicariously |
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After you, no, after me |
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No, I insist, please, after me |
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Do I want to with all that charm? |
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Do I want to twist my arm? |
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Do I want to with all that charm? |
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Do I want to twist my arm? |
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Oh do it |