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Every day the satellite |
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Seems to be the door of someone's reach |
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Every day the satellite |
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Seems a little further on the beach |
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Satellites and stags |
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I'm growing Betsy in a bag |
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And she don't mind |
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As long as things are round |
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Every day the satellite |
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Jerky little canister of gold |
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Who's to be the satellite |
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With inches of whole Betsy growing cold |
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I'm into you so far |
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I'm out the other side |
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And orbiting is just a waste of time |
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Next time I get into you |
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I swear to God I won't come out again |
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Swear to God I won't come out again |
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Satellites and stags |
|
I'm growing Betsy in a bag |
|
And she don't mind |
|
As long as things are round |
|
Every day the satellite |
|
Seems a little further out of reach |