| In the square, I waited for you
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| Trick, trick, trick
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| She’s the eye of the storm born in the city I live
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| Her vanity’s dressed up as virtue
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| In brogue shoes, in art schools with tattoos upon the skin
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| She used to make do, but now she makes men
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| Fall at her feet, weak, their tongues leak
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| They try to stop talking 'cause now they don’t make any sense
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| She was never academic
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| And she couldn’t draw a thing
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| But she had power over men
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| She had power over men
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| She had power over—
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| So I drove to the bar, now I’m sipping on gin
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| I stare into space as the place seemed to get
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| That little bit of something it was missing as she walked in
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| I could say she looked good, I could say she’s just a friend
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| But that would just be me throwing you off the scent
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| She’s everything an understatement has, she’s under my skin
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| Like an anaesthetic
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| You’ll never feel a thing
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| 'Cause she had power over men
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| She had power over men
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| She had power over
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| But as with any gift, there’s always a twist
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| She can never really kiss, 'cause there’s never a risk
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| Like if you never lost, you can never really win
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| It’s the burden and a cost of a power over
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| Men
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| She had power over men
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| She had power over men
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| She had power over men
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| She had power over men
|
| She had power over men
|
| She had power over |