| I was down in Amsterdam
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| Almost hurt myself to death
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| I pushed myself so hard just like the redlight girls
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| Well I cried and stopped to smile
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| I thought my career is over
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| And the dealer boys they had to bring me water
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| I stumbled over mountains
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| And the shadows of the street
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| I fell into the river
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| I cried and begged for mercy
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| And I talked to God on the telephone
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| But I really can’t tell you what he told me
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| But it was a lie
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| No I really can’t tell you what he told me
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| But it was a lie
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| When I came to in Amsterdam
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| The hotel showed a movie
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| With Marlon Brando and his friend Pacino
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| Well I thought that this is nice
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| And I’m sure I can relax now
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| But suddenly the room was full of demons
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| I escaped through the window
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| Almost ran a mile away
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| I had nowhere to go
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| So I cried and begged for mercy
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| And I talked to God on the telephone
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| But I really can’t tell you what he told me
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| But it was a lie
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| No I really can’t tell you what he told me
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| But it was a lie
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| But nothing seems to matter
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| In this lonesome dirty town
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| But for a short brief moment
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| I thought she was the one
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| And she and I were fighting
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| About sex, love and TV
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| That’s why I had to get down
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| And talk to God on the telephone
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| But I really can’t tell you what he told me
|
| But it was a lie
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| No I really can’t tell you what he told me
|
| But it was a lie |