| Well believe me I’ve tried but there’s no explaining
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| Eyes piled up you look like a painting
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| Saintly and sexy, the soft-spoken wind blows
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| Uncertain curtains cover broken windows
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| In desperate need of a safe haven and inflamed
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| I walk around Paris, unshaven and ashamed
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| 20 odd years since last time I slow danced
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| Teenage crisis and the end of romance
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| I see myself in the form of a wolf
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| Furry down on all fours and worried
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| Uneven colours and the echoes of fly tones
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| Connections I’ve lost in a collection of jawbones
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| Apples and oranges, you decide which
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| I’m writing graffiti on suicide bridge
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| I once knew a woman who was clever and tough
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| Who said too much make up is never enough
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| Her eyelids were heavy with words and desire
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| She lives underwater with the birds and the fire
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| And it just so happens I’m selling my psyche
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| If you like love you’ll love this, most likely
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| You and me are meant to be that’s right I love you
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| Can’t you see, whatever partner you do choose you have the ability to marry
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| 6, 7, 8, I’ll never hurt you you know
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| Husbands love their wives
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| Yeah, love the woman
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| Part of me is here with you
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| One life, where my heart beats for you
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| Well, here we are again
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| Here’s a couple, treacherous
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| I’m impatient in relationships in and love
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| When will you see quand allez-vous me voir
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| Tell me what is it is, Gee Whiz, I don’t think I know
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| Bird girl sorry I’m too sleepy to make
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| But the sounds of my dreams always keep me awake
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| Don’t wanna scare the birds away so I speak soft
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| Memories like the shows of Vanessa Beecroft
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| Her bedroom philosophies are so perplexing
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| But I think these two wooden legs are so sexy
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| Cries of sadness spectacular
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| You be Rossy de Palma and I’ll be your Dracula
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| Fist is of agony decorate the last room
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| Shoes by the door on the floor is your costume
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| Open the trunk with the car key, the odd way
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| Love songs call me the marquee de shad
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| Lord of the files you lost me I wonder how
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| Midnight meet me at the entrance for the underground
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| So many questions but I’m afraid to ask
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| So I whisper them to apollinaire by Picasso
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| I touch all the flowers and break the chain
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| I wish I could fly but I’d rather take the train
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| And it just so happens I’m selling my psyche
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| If you like love you’ll love this
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| You wouldn’t tell me what it was because
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| I don’t think you know |