| I’ve flown around the world in a plane;
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| I’ve settled revolutions in Spain;
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| The North Pole I have charted but can’t get started with you.
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| Around the golf course I’m under par,
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| And all the movies want me to star;
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| I’ve got a house, a showplace, but I get no place with you.
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| You’re so supreme, lyrics I write of you;
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| Scheme just for a sight of you;
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| Dream both day and night of you; |
| and what good does it do?
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| In nineteen twenty-nine I sold short;
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| In England I’m presented at court,
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| But you’ve got me downhearted
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| ‘Cause I can’t get started with you.
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| I do a hundred yards in ten flat;
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| The Prince of Wales has copied my hat;
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| With queens I’ve à la carted, but can’t get started with you.
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| The leading tailors follow my styles,
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| And toothpaste ads all feature my smiles;
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| The Asterbilts I visit, but say, what is it with you?
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| When first we met, how you elated me!
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| Pet, you devastated me!
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| Yet, now you’ve deflated me till you’re my Waterloo.
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| I’ve sold my kisses at a bazaar,
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| And after me they named a cigar,
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| But lately how I’ve smarted
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| ‘Cause I can’t get started with you! |