| So the skin has turned its back on me again
|
| And it’s back to playschool for me and my childhood friend
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| Well get over it!
|
| And the words don’t leave my mouth till I’ve had a dram
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| So I sit in the corner and watch you like the man I am
|
| Well get over it!
|
| Get over it!
|
| D’you want my side, my side of the story?
|
| D’you want my side, my side of the story?
|
| Well I want you, want you like I’m eighteen
|
| But I’m tied, tied to my baby
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| To my baby
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| Oh!
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| In another life I’d be drenched in sweat with you
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| But it’s this life darlin', and in this life we make do
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| Oh get over it!
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| G-g-g-g-get over it!
|
| Oh, d’you want my side, my side of the story?
|
| D’you want my side, my side of the story?
|
| Well I want you, want you like I’m eighteen
|
| But I’m tied, tied to my baby
|
| To my baby
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| My blessed baby
|
| Oh here’s my side, my side of the story
|
| Well I’m so tired, sick tired of the story!
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| Oh I want that thing that turns the grass green
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| Oh I’d kill my life for, what could I be
|
| What could I be?
|
| (Oh yeah, get over it, oh yeah, oh get over yeah, get over it, get over me,
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| get over, get over me, me, me…) |