| I was wandering through the streets of the city
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| Rambling through the the avenues of time
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| When from nowhere my eyes fell onto a girl
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| And by chance her eyes fell onto mine
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| Ah…
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| So I sat and I acted all nonchalant
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| She smoked her lavender cigarette
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| Reading the future that lay in my hands
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| My shadow played a bass clarinet
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| Where are you going with this, Bret?
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| We waltzed down a moonlit boulevard
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| Just two silhouettes in the mist
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| Ah. |
| yes?
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| Days went by and years went by
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| Moments went by when we kissed
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| When was this?
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| She said, «Your beard is woven of heartache
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| And we’ll drink for the lonely tonight.»
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| And the moon is a horny old drunkard
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| Ah, Bret. |
| Could you please move over to your right?
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| We drank dandelion wine and we reminisced
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| About the moment when we first met that day
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| I’m trying to watch TV
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| Then we reminisced about how we first reminisced
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| Ah yeah. |
| Sounds a bit gay
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| She handed me a broken memory
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| A keepsake to forevermore say
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| That a brief taste of love is as sweet as any
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| And with that, she made her way
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| Oh yeah. |
| What was her name?
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| She said her name was a secret
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| Then she said her name was Cherie
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| Is her middle name Cherie, so It’s a Secret Cherie, maybe?
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| Mm. |
| Maybe What did she look like?
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| She looked like a Parisian river
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| What? |
| dirty?
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| She looked like a chocolate eclair
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| That’s rare
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| Her eyes were reflections of eyes
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| Oh, nice
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| And the rainbows danced in her hair
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| Oh yeah.
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| She reminded me of a winter’s morning
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| What, frigid?
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| Her perfume was eau de toilette
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| What’s that mean?
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| She was comparable to Cleopatra
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| Quite old?
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| She was like Shakespeare’s Juliet
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| Thirteen?!
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| The bohemians of Soho did pirouettes
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| As we waltzed through the streets of Manhattan
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| On rivers of ribbon and sailboats of song
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| Bret, did any of this actually happen?
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| The girl I described, she’s as real as the wind
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| It’s true I saw her today
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| The other details are inventions
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| Because I prefer her that way |