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Shabby boy's kept you up all night |
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Oh, sentimental drinkers |
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Sing songs that end in fights about fights |
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And they'll swear to you |
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That they just can't help it |
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Know that poem in their head |
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That painting of your bed, it must out |
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Does time stand still |
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When you cross the room? |
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Oh, surely it must do |
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When they write a song |
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That goes on and on about you |
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Does your golden hair, fall in waves? |
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No mention of a spot |
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Tantrum or tooth rot, not for them |
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Just pearly smiles and |
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Mona Lisa wiles |
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For your coterie of stars |
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Your barrel of charlatans |
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Celebrate, and they will venerate |
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Hold their heads in the morning glare |
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For with some faint praise |
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They will hold your gaze |
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And dedicate it all to you |
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Yeah, dedicate it all to you |
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Oh, you live your life in black and white |
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No subtlety for you, no mercy for the muse |
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It's true |
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Come in again, number 10 |
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Oh, your army of typewriters |
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Your consequence of biters won't last long |
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And life will burden you not |
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Love will carry on with a thrust |
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And they'll swear to you |
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That they just can't help it |
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That poem in their head |
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That painting of your bed |
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It must out, it must out |
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Celebrate and they will venerate |
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Hold their heads in the morning glare |
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For with some faint praise |
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They will hold your gaze |
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And dedicate it all to you |
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Yeah, dedicate it all to you |
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Yeah, dedicate it all to you |