| I’m in love with the person in the sandwich centre
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| If she didn’t exist I’d have to invent her
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| There isn’t any secret to my frequent visits
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| It’s the way she makes them and they’re all exquisite
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| I’m in love with the person in the sandwich centre
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| Enamoured of the magic of her fresh polenta
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| My temperature rises and my pulses quicken
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| When she gets cracking with the coronation chicken
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| Geraldine, Geraldine
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| I know there’s much more to life than the physical side
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| I should put these thoughts on hold
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| But when she’s buttering my baguette
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| My blood runs hot and cold
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| Geraldine, G-G-G-G-G-G-G-G-Geraldine
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| Geraldine, G-G-G-G-G-G-G-G-G
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| I’m in love with the person in the sandwich centre
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| I’m living for the moment that I next frequent her
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| In beauty’s eyes beholding my inamorata
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| As she works her wonders on a dried tomato
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| Geraldine, Geraldine
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| I know there’s much more to life than the sensual side
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| The spiritual should come first
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| But when she’s buttering my baguette
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| I think I’m going to burst
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| Geraldine, that’s the nicest badge I’ve ever seen
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| Geraldine, you make the world seem fresh and clean
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| Geraldine, G-G-G-G-G-G-G-G-Geraldine
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| Geraldine |