| It’s the tenth of January and I still ain’t had no sleep
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| She comes waltzing in the nighttime, made of wings
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| She is dressed up like a bandit with a hundred sparkling rings
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| Looking for my company to keep
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| Coming closer to me, she doesn’t say a word
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| In the shadow of the carved rock tower
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| Where the sounds of the night were the only things we heard
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| In my darkest hour
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| She don’t want to hear no secrets, she would guarantee me that
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| She knows there ain’t no words that can describe her
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| With her white silk scarves and her black Spanish hat
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| She knows there ain’t no way I can deny her
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| Yes, her blue velvet perfume, filling up the night
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| The guards are all asleep that watch the tower
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| The moonlight held her breast as she easily undressed
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| In my darkest hour
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| Her father’s in his chambers with his friends all gathered 'round
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| They are plotting their enemy’s demise
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| With their last detail done, they await the coming sun
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| While I am staring in my lover’s eyes
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| Her brothers and her sisters are all through for tonight
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| Pretending that they’ve just come to power
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| But she, far most of all, knows that they can only fall
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| In my darkest hour
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| Hungry wings, their melodies, while my love awakens me
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| In the midst of the sunburst first light
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| And her hands are holding up the skies as I hid my opened eyes
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| Every move just for herself, and that’s so right
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| Soon I went along my way with no words that could explain
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| As she began descending to the tower
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| Her safety now concerns me, her circumstance to blame
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| In my darkest hour |