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Strange times in casablanca when people pull down their shades |
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And its easy enough for us to look at each other and wonder why |
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We were to blame |
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Blame comes remorselessly transfixed |
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Like the sound of slamming doors |
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And doors have doors have doors have doors have doors |
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Like companions have pets they sleep in each other's mattresses |
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Like maggots in despair |
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And bleed in each other's nests and make a mess of each other's snares |
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Strange times in casablanca |
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Strange times |
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They make some striking couples |
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They make some frustration of the call |
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And only those who are satisfied by friendship would even pay |
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Attention to it all |
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It comes like mail or telegrams |
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It comes expectant as a widow in heat as a widow in the searing heat |
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And that contentment of depression that delivers most of the time |
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But cannot help the styling of the horns in the shape of gargoyle |
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Broken prints savage fingers |
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Undertaken catamaran |
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Strange times in casablanca |
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We've turned our back on it once before |
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And we can hear from across the waters what damage it will cause us |
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And you can smash once more |
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And they can smash once more |
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But i don't think anybody wants to smash anymore |