| The city lights are beckoning
|
| Their sirens softly call
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| All the fantasists and fetishist
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| Are preparing the ball
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| When you’ve been stuck here on the doorstep
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| With nothing to forsake
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| But you might as well be anyone’s to take
|
| So I give myself to strangers
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| Like I gave myself to you
|
| But the tenderness I felt
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| Has been replaced by something new
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| And in the orgy I can vaguely hear
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| The outline of your call
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| But I might as well be anyone’s at all
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| Every memory is sailing
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| To the kingdom of your soul
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| As you patiently await
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| I lose all sense of self-control
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| You were the lighthouse to my broken boat
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| But I left you behind
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| Now I might as well be anyone’s to find
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| Take my body, take it from me It is not worthy of your memory
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| I remember you undressing
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| As I set myself on fire
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| And the funeral was quick
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| As I lay lifeless on your pyre
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| Well it’s a kind of desperation
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| And it’s just something you can’t fake
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| Oh I might as well be anyone’s to take
|
| So I give myself to strangers
|
| Like I gave myself to you
|
| But the unity I felt
|
| has been replaced by something new
|
| Now I am Helen and I am Mary Jane
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| I’m Robert and I am Paul
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| Oh I might as well be anyone at all
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| Yes I might as well be anyone at all
|
| Oh I might as well be anyone at all
|
| Oh I might as well be anyone at all |