| Duncan was always cautious
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| Never the one to take a stand
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| Convinced to the bone
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| That he’s happier alone
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| And to justify the part
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| Keeps a closely guarded heart
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| Standing amidst the subway
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| He spies the lady of his dreams
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| And catches her stare
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| Long enough to make him care
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| «Oh my Lord, if Beauty has a name
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| Then hers must be the same…»
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| Lights upon empty rooms
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| Home too soon
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| Somewhere inside he burns
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| It looks like tea for one again
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| He sees her every day now
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| And each day he walks her to her door
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| But ever polite
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| He still sleeps alone at night
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| He keeps desire at bay
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| Afraid to change his way
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| Lights upon empty rooms
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| Home too soon
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| Somewhere inside he burns
|
| It looks like tea for one again
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| Grey Monday evening finds him
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| Making their usual stops alone
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| Where can she be?
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| He just had to go and see
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| And there’s roses in his hand
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| For his new romantic plans
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| Caught in the pouring rain
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| He crouches beneath her awning
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| And there through the screen
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| Spies his lady of esteem
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| Not alone
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| And there’s rapture on her face
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| Within a man’s embrace. |
| Lights upon empty rooms
|
| Home too soon
|
| Somewhere inside he burns
|
| It looks like tea for one again |