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here comes the bus |
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here it goes. |
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and the three lonely things poking up from the water |
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are her nipples and her nose as she floats on her back |
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and the sand is deserted |
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except for me standing |
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i stand as the landmark |
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to keep her on track |
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so the ocean wont pull her away |
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i'm guarding our bags |
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since i really cant swim |
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though she does try to teach |
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but thieves who scope tourists at night in the city and daytime all probably |
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hang at this beach |
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you never know in monte carlo |
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from noon until evening |
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her skin changes colour from paler than mine to a sun punished red |
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so i expect havok |
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tonight around bedtime |
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she'll want me to blow on her blisters in bed |
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that's the sun in monte carlo |
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the keeper of the lighthouse is sleeping |
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so we creep upstairs to play with his beam |
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making ships stray from their courses intended |
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by highlighting rocks and the shallows between them |
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and the smashing for hulls in the night |
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seem to have no consequence at all |
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like the action in dreams |
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and the morning gulls pick over jetsam and junk over floatsam but feeling no |
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guilt for their screams |
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while we spend three quarters of our time apologizing for the quarter of the time that |
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we're thoughtless and thoughtless and mean |
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just for fun in monte carlo |
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just for fun in monte carlo |
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we go to the cliffs |
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where the men cruise each other |
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their cars come and go like the change of the tide |
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where grace kelly swam her last swim on the planet |
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when grace kelly's roadster flipped over the side of the guard rail |
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one guy looked so nervous and standing alone |
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my friend saw him shaking and started to laugh |
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i said wouldn't you be nervous |
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if you knew in ten minutes |
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you'd have the surf at your feet |
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and some stranger up your back |
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giving you his best monte carlo |
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a ten minute double ringed halo |
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you know the most breathetaking sight i've seen in awhile |
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was the sight of french men fucking under the stars |
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we watched them dancing like mermen on fire |
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til' cops came and chased them away in their cars |
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we watched them run in monte carlo |
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we watched them and we laid low |
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and my girl is as red as a rare hothouse flower |
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her skin is so burned that she's giving off heat |
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and my girl is as tired as nobody's business |
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but sea air makes sleeping |
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incredibly sweet |
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two more nights in monte carlo |
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and her burn will be a tan |
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she can't sleep |
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she just said so |
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so i turn up the fan |