| She’s got the soul, but her gut needs to run
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| To have the marking washed about the things and like
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| Everybody’s laughing 'bout the clown in her head
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| I start to dress me like the wise girls said
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| Some people whisper and some people talk too much
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| I feel the time has come, I feel the job is done
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| Something is ridiculous, she takes my hand and say:
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| «Don't you want to fuck me? |
| I am ready to play!»
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| I am the gear, she is obscene
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| We are the oil of the shaking bed machine
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| Another scream, wake up — it’s your dream
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| That is what I mean
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| Here comes a strange kind of hero
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| Non-formal stories that you know
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| Don’t get me wrong, you’ll try the dark way
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| Don’t get me wrong, it’s not your last day
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| She is a bee with a sting in her hand
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| She loves a run back in my gone freezing land
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| We fall into plans and we dropped in to the force
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| And now she spreads her legs «You wanna ride me like a horse?»
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| I am the gear, she is obscene
|
| We are the oil of the shaking bed machine
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| Another scream, wake up — it’s your dream
|
| That is what I mean
|
| Here comes a strange kind of hero
|
| Non-formal stories that you know
|
| Don’t get me wrong, you’ll try the dark way
|
| Don’t get me wrong, it’s not your last day
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| And now it feels like before
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| I know you ask for more
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| Don’t get me wrong, here’s the law |