| The singer steps foward
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| He is not a torch song singer
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| He is not the embodiment of a soul brother
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| The unassuming troubadour
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| Sings to himself, softly
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| Not a word escaps his lips
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| They don’t even try
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| His words would rather stay as long with him as possible
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| But his melody is for me and for you
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| I prefer to be alone when you’re not around
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| Sometimes when I speak I can’t stand the sound
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| Of my voice, this great big destructive machine
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| That takes too much time to say what it means
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| They tell me that my father is sick once again
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| With the plague that has decimated many old men
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| And I settle once more to a long sad dread
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| That reminds me that all loved ones will soon be dead
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| This is why I spent so much time making love to you
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| In your arms I was searching for things that were true
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| This is why I spent so much time making love to you
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| In your arms I was searching for things that were true
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| It’s a memory of mine that I’m watching for a moment
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| I’m distracted just a bit by something less important
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| But I’m here for the part of the day that I crave;
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| I have caffiene in my system that makes me feel brave
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| The chill in the air is exactly what I want
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| With the sun on my face and my eyes tightly shut
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| It’s important to me to remember these things
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| It’s important to me to remember these things
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| I’m pretending we’re in Prague sipping sodas by the square
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| Where the clock brought the masses to the ceremony there
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| Every hour little puppets spin around the clock face
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| Each figure represents one of the human race
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| And somehow we were always on time for the show
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| We’d arrive to the chaos of the people right below those large chiming bells
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| that had a song to sing;
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| It’s important for me to remember these things
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| Absinthe and sex
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| Black garters, cheap wine a hotel in Prague
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| A Moment in time
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| We are hungry and scary
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| And so much in love
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| We laugh at each other
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| As we push and we shove
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| The singer keeps singing. |
| The singer keeps singing. |
| The singer keeps singing.
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| Keep singing, singer
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| That was the first time I really caught your eyes
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| In the small Italian shop with the coffee that you liked
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| And when our eyes met
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| I couldn’t look away and my mouth opened to speak
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| But there wasn’t much to say
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| I was frozen, transfixed by the way that you looked
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| But you grabbed me and pulled me into a small nook
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| Where we kissed like we had never tasted lips before
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| And I still wanted more
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| I still want more
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| I am frightened of what these words might bring;
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| But it’s important for me to remember these things
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| I am frightened of what these words might bring;
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| But it’s important for me to remember these things
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| You’re too far away for this to make sense
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| And I feel in my heart ever mile of distance
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| And I don’t him to stop 'cause
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| I know what that means
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| The Song will be over
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| And so will you and me
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| The Song will be over
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| And so will you and me
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| The song … |