Madono,
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who was the painter who knew you
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he almost wrote you sonnets,
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did he carry your arms?
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Madono,
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he whispered to you a hundred times in the evening,
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he gave direction to the stars of your eyes
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their wishes.
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Madono,
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Cupid has long since lost his bow,
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you are today just a graceful color cluster,
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distant faded wind blowing.
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Madono,
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my painter will also come,
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I'll dream about him for a while.
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I know him, I know
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when he walks towards me.
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I've known him for a long time,
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he has music in his eyes.
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I know him, I know
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has a head in the clouds
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however, modesty does not lose.
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I already know him, I know
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she has a shyness of deer.
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I've known him for a long time,
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she has the sun in her hands.
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I know him, I know
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he stands in front of me
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although I am not the Madonna.
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He is my love
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tender love white.
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I've known him for a long time, I know him
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and I will not stop knowing.
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I already know him, I know him.
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He stands in front of me,
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although I am not the Madonna.
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He is my love
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tender love white.
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I've known him for a long time, I know him
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and I will not stop knowing.
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I already know him, I know him. |