| I know the world is a question
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| I know war is an invention
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| And the earth rolls like a balloon
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| Beneath men with hearts full of ambitions
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| I know the world is made up of fictions
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| I know the sky is the horizon
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| Whether pink or blue like our illusions
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| I see the earth is red with passion
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| But there is the accordion
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| And it's so good the accordion
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| When he's there the accordion smells of France and it's so good
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| But there is the accordion
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| And it's so good the accordion
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| When he's there, the accordion smells of France
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| Love I know has strange ways
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| The cries of the heart also have their sorrows
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| And turn, turn the wheel of fate
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| Happiness always seems for tomorrow
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| But there is the accordion
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| And it's so good the accordion
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| When he's there the accordion smells of France and it's so good
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| But there is the accordion
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| And it's so good the accordion
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| When he is there the accordion it smells of France
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| An old bistro and the smell of fries
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| A glass of wine come I invite you
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| To forget and run away
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| Of your troubles of their sorrows and their consequences
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| And there will be the accordion
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| And it's so good the accordion
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| When he's there the accordion smells of France and it's so good
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| And there will be the accordion
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| And it's so good the accordion
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| When he is there the accordion it smells of France |