| I’m haunted by the monsters of Goya
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| They haunt me in the dead of the night
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| They scratch at the panes of my windows
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| They loom in the El Grecco sky
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| They wound me with poison arrows
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| They pitch in my fevered mind
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| They punish with insults and doubting
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| They bite at my heels all the time
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| I’m hoping someone can save me Some saint with some remedy
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| But all that I’m living with lately
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| Is the thought that I’ll be released
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| In the deaf man’s house hang black paintings
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| The images of a darkening mind
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| When Saturn comes to devour you
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| Where the witch’s wild eyes will shine
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| I dreamt I took refuge in Paris
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| Where things are comfortably sane
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| And the hooves of the beast all have silenced
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| And the monsters are exiled to Spain
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| I’m hoping someone can save me Some saint with some remedy
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| 'Cause all that I’m living with lately
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| Is the thought that I’ll be released
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| Oh my love
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| Oh my love
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| Oh my love
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| Oh my love
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| Oh my love
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| Oh my love
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| Don’t you get down
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| Oh my love
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| Oh my love
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| Don’t you cry
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| Don’t get down
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| Oh my love
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| Don’t you cry
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| Oh my love
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| Oh my love
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| Oh my love |