| Well, I met you at the blood bank
|
| We were looking at the bags
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| Wondering if any of the colors
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| Matched any of the names we knew on the tags
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| You said «See, look, that’s yours
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| Stacked on top with your brother’s
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| See how they resemble one another’s
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| Even in their plastic little covers?»
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| And I said I know it well
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| That secret that you know
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| But don’t know how to tell
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| It fucks with your honor
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| And it teases your head
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| But you know that it’s good girl
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| Because it’s running you with red
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| Then the snow started falling
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| We were stuck out in your car
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| You were rubbing both of my hands
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| Chewing on a candy bar
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| You said «Ain't this just like the present
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| To be showing up like this?»
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| As a moon waned to crescent
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| We started to kiss
|
| And I said I know it well
|
| That secret that we know
|
| That we don’t know how to tell
|
| I’m in love with your honor
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| I’m in love with your cheeks
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| What’s that noise up the stairs, babe?
|
| Is that Christmas morning creaks?
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| And I know it well
|
| I know it well
|
| And I know it well
|
| I know it well
|
| And I know it well
|
| I know it well
|
| And I know it well
|
| I know it well |