| Orion, wont you give me your star sign
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| Orion, get up on the sky-line
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| Im high on my hill and I feel fine
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| Orion, lets sip the heavens heady wine
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| Orion, light your lights:
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| Come guard the open spaces
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| From the black horizon to the pillow where I lie.
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| Your faithful dog shines brighter than its lord and master
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| Your jewelled sword twinkles as the world rolls by.
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| So come up singing above the cloudy cover
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| Stare through at people who toss fitful in their sleep.
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| I know youre watching as the old gent by the station
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| Scuffs his toes on old fag packets lying in the street
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| And silver shadows flick across the closing bistro.
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| Sweet waiters link their arms and patter down the street,
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| Their words lost blowing on cold winds in darkest chelsea.
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| Prime years fly fading with each young hearts beat
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| Orion, wont you make me a star sign
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| Orion, get up on the sky-line
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| Im high on your love and I feel fine
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| Orion, lets sip the heavens heady wine
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| And young girls shiver as they wait by lonely bus-stops
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| After sad parties: no-one to take them home
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| To greasy bed-sitters and make a late-night play
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| For lost virginity a thousand miles away. |