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Tall and tan and young and lovely |
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The girl from Ipanema goes walking |
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And when she passes, each one she passes goes - ah |
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When she walks, she's like a samba |
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That swings so cool and sways so gentle |
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That when she passes, each one she passes goes - ooh |
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(Ooh) But I watch her so sadly |
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How can I tell her I love her |
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Yes I would give my heart gladly |
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But each day, when she walks to the sea |
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She looks straight ahead, not at me |
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Tall, (and) tan, (and) young, (and) lovely |
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The girl from Ipanema goes walking |
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And when she passes, I smile - but she doesn't see (doesn't see) |
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(She just doesn't see, she never sees me, ) |