| I was into you boy like, I thought, nothing else
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| You see, I keep falling too fast
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| I’d met no other man who had the same hands
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| Who worked them from day until night
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| Who worked them from holding me to picking fights
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| (fits of rage)
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| Coming to my face like nothing I have ever known
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| But fits of rage was something I could deal without so I had to let him go
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| You got to move on
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| You got to let him go
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| It’s never just the one thing and that’s how you know that you got to let him go
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| And my baby with the long hair, one of those artist types |