| Where do I begin,
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| where should I start?
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| So much to tell… or nothing at all.
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| At the end of the day it is all the same,
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| 'cause that’s how things are.
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| No-one ever writes, no-one calls,
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| only replies, so I have to go first,
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| which is tiring and sad,
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| but all that I have,
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| so I just go ahead with it.
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| I do believe,
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| I do believe, I do believe, I do,
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| I do believe in friendship…-
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| in friendship and in truth.
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| I often try picturing what it
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| would be like to have a friend,
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| someone who spends his time
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| with me, enjoys my company
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| as much as I like him.
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| Someone who calls for no reason
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| at all, simply out of a whim…-
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| whom, at the end of the day,
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| I don’t have to pay
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| like everyone else.
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| Someone, who has no gain from
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| knowing my name, my weakness
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| or strength, who doesn’t pretend
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| and isn’t afraid to share pleasure
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| or pain, is honest and true. |