| Downtown waiting around
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| For no one in particular;
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| Tickled by the grazing eyes of bachelorettes and passersby
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| You’ve been playing the part of
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| The cultured and smart
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| Of clean-pressed shirts and a ruthless charm
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| Oh, the cars pass by a bit slower just to take you in
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| But that’s surely no cause for concern
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| Held close by the grip of the grind
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| Cold sweat drips slow like your passing prime
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| You shake its grip and take me aside
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| And you say to me
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| «I met a man who was free and he cautioned me
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| ‘Beware the man with only one book,'
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| I’m sure I took it the wrong way
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| I’m sure I took it the wrong way.»
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| Oh sweet young professional
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| Your future sees you with such vacant eyes
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| Your future sees you with such vacant eyes
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| Down the road is someone there who’s waiting for
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| Your well-intentioned scheme; |
| will it be so well received?
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| Will you ache and lose your place when she takes you there?
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| Strips you of your unease: Inhibitions unleashed
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| And we move on and on to different songs
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| But it’s been so long, your friends moved on
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| Trying to find themselves somewhere along the way
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| But that’s surely no cause for concern |