| The love of my life when I was a kid
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| Came by my house this morning
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| We used to dance the afternoons away with Kylie
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| Back when the nineties were dawning
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| The love of my life when I was a kid
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| Used to write me the sweetest letters
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| And one night he shot a couple of birds in a pool
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| Thought it was to impress me He was my older brother’s friend and had a light around him
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| that would chase off any winter
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| He had no father and his mother seemed younger than ours
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| And he was a dancer
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| He had the keys to a place where we could practice
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| It felt almost like Dirty Dancing
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| Minus the United States and instead of a resort
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| it was the Folkets Hus basement
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| Aaahhh
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| Well then I became a singer and he became a chimney sweep
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| And a hunter and a father of two so far
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| I got a grand piano and a house with a chimney
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| And this morning he came by to sweep it And we sat on the steps to the house listening
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| To the birds of the coming spring singing
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| He said 'get up on the roof and put up a net,
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| or they will build a nest in your chimney
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| And when I touched his sweepers arm with my piano fingers
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| He said «watch Frida, your hands will get dirty»
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| And I felt like I had a fever
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| The dark powers, the mayflowers
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| The roads on which we travel
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| How he told me no and how my young heart broke
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| And how a cold new world unravelled
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| I guess you do the dirty now and I do the dancing
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| And once we were Baby and Johnny
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| In a small boring town where the winters were long
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| And our real names were Frida and Jimmy
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| Aaahhh |