| I’d say life’s a different story when you’re facing certain death
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| I wonder did they kick back when they knew the game was up
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| Static on the radio ain’t no soundtrack for this end
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| Stick on a bit of agner and we’ll go down
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| Let see if we skim
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| Maybe there’s no time, for grand exits and pause
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| Twistin our propellers, dropping at the froth
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| And as she turned to Fred she saw the fear in his eyes
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| And whatever was between them, was heavy in the last word he said
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| Amelia
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| Or maybe they went on to grow oranges and pears
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| On their own island, Amelia and Fred
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| She’d dance for him in the evenings as the red sun fell
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| He’d sit there smiling up at her thinking this is just swell
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| Take me
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| Some say she resurfaced as a Tokyo rose
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| Talking on the radio, telling sweet lies
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| But remember when the farmer asked have you flown far
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| She just smiled back at him and said
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| 'I've come, from America'
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| Amelia
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| Time has cast it’s shadow, the story lost it’s legs
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| Our favorite missing person, still rears her head
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| Not on the milk cartons, just some bones on a beach
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| That just might be a tall white girl called Amelia
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| Just might be a tall white girl called Amelia
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| Oh Amelia
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| It’s just like flying X4 |