| When you left you took all memory of me with
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| Leaving me with no hope of every being loved
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| And now like the air I’m blowing and blowing
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| With no hope of ever being seen
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| Did you hear the one about Mr. Ed
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| Well he said
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| «I'm this way because of the things I’ve seen
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| But I would rather count on your love instead
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| Daily eating my weight in hay.»
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| And I hate to see a good thing just go to waste
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| Honey it’s a little weak for my taste
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| Well I’ve been praying a lot lately
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| It’s because I no longer have a TV
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| Just a flourescent hangover to light the way
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| Between the things you say and the things I see
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| I just called you up to see If you wanted to go out
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| And drink a little wine
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| And waste some time on a rollercoaster ride
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| But you say it’s too dangerous to lead an empty life
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| And I hate to see all your sweet words just go to waste
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| But honey they’re a little weak for my taste
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| Well I’m an expert in all things that nature abhors
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| Your look of disgust when I touched your skin
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| And I try to figure what the world needs me for
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| So I replay the scene again and again
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| And I can see you try and put me in my place
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| Honey that’s a little weak for my taste |