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Looking for a friend, looking everywhere |
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Walked along the boulevard, the boulevard of friends |
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All those mild mannered friends I've got |
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They're careless and they fall down |
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All over the place, all over town |
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I don't want them talking to me |
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'Cause I'm leaving it, leaving it, leaving it up to you |
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Have to leave it, leave it, leave it up to you |
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All the buildings are breaking down |
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Like the whispering in your heart |
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And it's sordid how life goes on |
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When I could take you apart |
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And if you give me half a chance |
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I'd do it now, I'd do it now, right now, you fascist |
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I know we could all feel safe like Sharon Tate |
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We could give it all up, we could give, give, give it all up |
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And the newspapers, oh the newspapers |
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They'd be listening, listening to me giving it to you |
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And the radio, what about the radios? |
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They'd be listening to me giving it to you |
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Right mama, damn right mama |
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I hear hissing, I hear hissing in the distance |
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I hear the tanks crawling |
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They're crawling over the hill, they're crawling over the hill |
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Like rattlesnakes in the desert sun |
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They're blistering up my spell, they're blistering it up |
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They're breaking it up, they're breaking up my spell |
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And what else is there, what else have I got? |
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What else have I got but that spell? |
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Ah, leaving it, leaving it, I'm leaving it up to you |
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Leaving it, leaving it, leaving it up to you |
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Leaving it, leaving it, leaving it in the cloakroom for you |
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I've got to give it up, I've got to give it up, give it up |
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Up, up, give it up |
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I can't take it |