| You came out of the night,
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| Wearing a mask in white colour.
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| My eyes were shining
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| On the wine, and your aura.
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| All in order, we move into the boudoir,
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| But too soon the morning has resumed.
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| I’m hanging on the Old Goose Moon.
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| You look like an angel,
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| Sleeping it off at a station.
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| Were you only passing through?
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| I’m dying for you just to touch me,
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| And feel all the energy rushing right up-a-me.
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| L’amour looks something like you.
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| The thought of you sends me shivery.
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| I’m dressed in lace, sailing down a black reverie.
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| My heart is thrown
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| To the pebbles and the boatmen.
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| All the time I find I’m living in that evening,
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| With that feeling of sticky love inside.
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| I’m hanging on the Old Goose Moon.
|
| You look like an angel,
|
| Sleeping it off at a station.
|
| Were you only passing through?
|
| I’m dying for you just to touch me,
|
| And feel all the energy rushing right up-a-me.
|
| L’amour looks something like you. |