| The little girl plays chopsticks
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| Wears Mummy’s lipstick
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| The babysitter watches a dull documentary
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| I’m on the fire escape
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| Waiting impatiently
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| Anticipating what you’re saving up for me
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| It’s a Saturday night
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| The little girl is tucked up tight
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| At last we’re alone
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| I whisper the good things that I’m going to do to you
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| All night long
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| By the light of a dull documentary
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| I will fuck you so tenderly
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| Little by little and splendidly
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| And when we undress underneath the piano
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| And when I’m caressing your skin
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| The air will grow colder
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| When over your shoulder
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| I see the door open
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| And the little girl come in
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| And you’ll dip from above
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| And I’ll feel you below gripping my love
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| Your hair tickles my face
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| As you show me the sensitive place
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| All night long
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| By the light of a dull documentary
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| When you open your thighs to me
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| I see the little girl stretching her eyes at me
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| This reminds me of when I was five
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| And I followed the sound of the bedsprings creaking
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| And there in the bulb-light
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| I witnessed the strange sight
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| Of two grown-up people
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| Bouncing and shrieking
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| All night long
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| By the light of a dull documentary
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| Casting new light on the primal scene
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| Makes me remember the good things I’ve seen
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| And I’ll go on providing this spectacle
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| 'Til we come or the little girl goes
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| Go on providing the rhythm of life
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| While you play the tune with your toes, it goes … |