| Sunday morning major ache and I wonder where I am
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| A different smell and a face beside me
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| «Who's that woman, does she have a name?»
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| My mind is working harder and I just begin to sweat
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| I hear noise, close my eyes pretend to sleep but
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| My heatbeat wakes her, she says:
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| «Good morning mister wisdom
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| And thank you for last night
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| I’ve learned a lot but most of all I’ve got you»
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| I don’t believe it, I don’t know what I have done
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| Too much wine and I was gone
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| Tell her it’s alright now
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| Sunday evening still around, she asks me if I care
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| I say: «I love you my sweetheart but I’ve got to go
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| Can i have your number? |
| I call you tomorrow»
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| She hesitates then looks right trough me
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| she knows that I am scared
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| She says: «Mister wisdom give me yours instead
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| I call you tonight, is everything alright?»
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| Standing by the door with a shotgun in my back
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| One of those night that blows my head away
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| Hmmm don’t believe it
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| Doesn’t know what she’s done
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| Too much wine and she was gone
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| She thinks
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| Tell her it’s alright now
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| It’s alright
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| It’s alright
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| I tell you it’s alright now |