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I wonder where you are tonight |
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You're probably on the rampage somewhere |
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You have been known to take delight in gettin' in somebody's hair |
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And you, you always had the knack, fade to black |
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Bet you already made a pass, I see a darkened room somewhere |
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You run your finger round the rim of his glass |
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And run your fingers through his hair |
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They scratch across his back, fade to black |
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Well, maybe it's all for the best but I wish I'd never been lassoed |
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Maybe, it's some kind of test but I wish I'd never been tattooed |
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Or been to Hell and back, fade to black |