| Back from where the crowd rains cold
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| She’s letting down the burden
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| Never doin' what she’s told
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| Living another Walden
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| Back to where the cats are kings
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| She knows it by the letter
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| All those nights and mornings
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| Running it down and under
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| There she goes — polkadot dress
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| Barefoot on the cobblestones
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| Where is she at? |
| Let’s take a guess
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| Jaywalking in the streets of Rome
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| She’s like a hotline
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| You can call whether rain or shine
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| When it looks like nothing is bright
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| A few words with her and, it’ll be allright
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| She is your chatter box
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| Writes you real letters
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| Oh roman goldilocks
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| She’s some upsetter
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| There she goes — tropical cyclone
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| Barefoot on the cobblestones
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| Looking for Saint Jerome
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| Jaywalking through the streets of Rome
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| Picking up white owl feathers
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| She buries to keep safe
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| Drinking oil and loving cats
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| Gives her their pur rand their scratch
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| Trees Leaves and Seashells
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| Will make her day
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| Words never come out
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| In miscellaneous ways
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| Roaming along the gaps in the city
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| Greek goddess on the Campo dei fiori
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| Scarlet Doe in the middle of the Prairie
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| The feline can hear and feel and see |