Well, that's it, like in fifth grade,
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I'm afraid to come up and say three words,
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As if the lips were taped,
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And inside the current shortens the heart.
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Well, that's all, just a bunch of nuances,
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And he has you, and I have no chance…
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And it's five o'clock in the morning for me
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Dreams jump… And in them…
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Chorus:
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Jazz, three orbits on the glass
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And arrows on a hundred-oh-oh,
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I'm going to love you, my Aphrodite,
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I'm your Yves Cousteau-oh-oh,
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Sewn in depth…
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Jazz, three orbits on the glass
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And arrows on a hundred-oh-oh,
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I'm going to love you, my Aphrodite…
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Well, that's all, broken files,
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If there are two, then the third is superfluous,
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When he is, I will be extreme,
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I will be extreme, and again…
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Chorus:
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Jazz, three orbits on the glass
|
And arrows on a hundred-oh-oh,
|
I'm going to love you, my Aphrodite,
|
I'm your Yves Cousteau-oh-oh,
|
Sewn in depth…
|
Jazz, three orbits on the glass
|
And arrows on a hundred-oh-oh,
|
I'm going to love you, my Aphrodite…
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Loss
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I-a-a-a-a I'm going to love you-e-e-e!
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I-a-a-a-a I'm going to love you-e-e-e!
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Jazz! |
There are three orbits on the glass
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And arrows on a hundred-oh-oh-oh!
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I'm going to love you, my Aphrodite,
|
I am your Yves Cousteau-oh-oh-oh,
|
Sewn in depth!
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Jazz!!! |
Three orbits on the glass!
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And arrows on a hundred-oh-oh-oh!
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I'm going to love you, my Aphrodite-a-a-a… |