| Amore, amore
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| Be mine, be mine
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| (Cherchez la femme, rumba)
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| (Cherchez la femme, rumba)
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| (Cherchez la femme, rumba)
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| (Cherchez la femme, rumba)
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| (Cherchez…rumba, rumba)
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| Tommy Mottola lives on the road
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| He lost his lady two months ago
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| Maybe he’ll find her
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| Maybe he won’t
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| Oh, one never knows
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| He sleeps in the back of his grey Cadillac
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| Oh, my honey
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| Living on dreams and Elle magazines
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| Oh, ain’t it crazy, baby, mmm-hmmm
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| Guess you could say
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| This man has learnt his lesson
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| Oooh
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| Now he’s alone
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| He’s got no women and no home
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| For misery
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| Cherchez la femme
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| Miggie, Miggie Bonija’s very upset
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| She’s sick and tired of living in debt
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| Tired of roaches and tired of rats
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| I know she is
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| So her noble man says
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| «Baby I understand» oh my honey
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| Now he’s working two jobs at 8th Avenue bars
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| Oh, ain’t it crazy, baby
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| Now she complains
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| That her man is never present, no
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| So she goes next door
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| I know, oh, she’s just playing the whore
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| For misery
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| Cherchez la femme
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| They’ll tell you a lie with a Colgate smile
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| Hey baby
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| Love you one second and hate you the next
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| Well, oh ain’t it crazy, yeah
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| All I can say
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| Oooh, of one thing I am certain
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| They’re all the same
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| All the sluts and the saints
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| For misery
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| Cherchez la femme
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| Cherchez la femme
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| Cherchez la femme
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| Cherchez la femme |