| Well, the glory goes to those who do not seek it
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| Reveling in midnight clothes among the wicked
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| Picking scabs from off their skin and rolling holy deeply
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| Into the rhythm of a song that does not end
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| You remind me of something, a song that I am
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| And you sing me back into myself
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| When I wake, when I’m sleeping
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| The song is a man and a woman and everything else
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| And my mother is a good one, as they go
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| She does not condone the actions that I do that she don’t know
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| She swears nightly before resting that I give her soul a testing
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| When I sing this song that does not end
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| You remind me of something, a song that I am
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| And you sing me back into myself
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| When I wake, when I’m sleeping
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| The song is a man and a woman and everything else
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| It’s been years since I found it, I still know where it pounded
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| My ears pressed to the chest of that one woman of song
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| She adores me, she ignores me and I revel on
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| In wonder at something so sweet and so long
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| I like the places where the night does not mean an end
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| Where smiles break free and surprise is your friend
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| And dancing goes on in the kitchen until dawn
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| To my favorite song that does not end
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| You remind me of something, a song that I am
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| And you sing me back into myself
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| When I wake, when I’m sleeping
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| The song is a man and a woman and everything else |