| The true romance is the ideal repression
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| That you seek, that you dream of, that you look for in the streets
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| That you find in the magazines, the cinema, the glossy shops
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| And the music spins you round and round looking for the props
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| The silken robe, the perfect little ring
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| Will give you the illusion when it doesn’t mean a thing
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| Step outside into the street and staring from the wall
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| Is perfection of the happiness that makes you feel so small
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| Romance, can you dance? |
| D’you fit the right description?
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| Do you love me? |
| Do you love me?
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| Do you want me for your own?
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| Do you love me, say you need me So you know that I’m the one
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| Tell me I’m your everything, let us build a home
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| We can build a house for two, with little ones to follow
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| The proof of our normality that justifies tomorrow
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| Romance, romance
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| Do you love me? |
| Say you do We can leave the world behind and make it just for two
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| Love don’t make the world go round, it holds it right in place
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| Keeps us thinking love’s too pure to see another face
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| Love’s another skin-trap, another social weapon
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| Another way to make men slaves and women at their beckon
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| Love’s another sterile gift, another shit condition
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| That keeps us seeing just the one and others not existing
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| Woman in a holy myth, a gift of mans expression
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| She’s sweet, defenceless, golden-eyed, a gift of gods repression
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| If we didn’t have these codes for love, of tokens and positions
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| We’d find ourselves as lovers still, not tokens of possessions
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| It’s a natural, it’s a romance, without the power and greed
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| We can fight to life the cover if you want to sow a seed
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| Do you love me? |
| Do you? |
| Do you? |
| Don’t you see they aim to smother
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| The actual possibilities of seeing all the others? |