| Looking for a friend, looking everywhere
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| Walked along the boulevard, the boulevard of friends
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| All those mild mannered friends I’ve got
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| They’re careless and they fall down
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| All over the place, all over town
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| I don’t want them talking to me
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| 'Cause I’m leaving it, leaving it, leaving it up to you
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| Have to leave it, leave it, leave it up to you
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| All the buildings are breaking down
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| Like the whispering in your heart
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| And it’s sordid how life goes on
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| When I could take you apart
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| And if you give me half a chance
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| I’d do it now, I’d do it now, right now, you fascist
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| I know we could all feel safe like Sharon Tate
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| We could give it all up, we could give, give, give it all up
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| And the newspapers, oh the newspapers
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| They’d be listening, listening to me giving it to you
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| And the radio, what about the radios?
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| They’d be listening to me giving it to you
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| Right mama, damn right mama
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| I hear hissing, I hear hissing in the distance
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| I hear the tanks crawling
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| They’re crawling over the hill, they’re crawling over the hill
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| Like rattlesnakes in the desert sun
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| They’re blistering up my spell, they’re blistering it up
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| They’re breaking it up, they’re breaking up my spell
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| And what else is there, what else have I got?
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| What else have I got but that spell?
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| Ah, leaving it, leaving it, I’m leaving it up to you
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| Leaving it, leaving it, leaving it up to you
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| Leaving it, leaving it, leaving it in the cloakroom for you
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| I’ve got to give it up, I’ve got to give it up, give it up
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| Up, up, give it up
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| I can’t take it |