| With the brim of his hat down below his eyes
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| He walked on Hollywood streets in the dark of the night
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| Cigarette on the lips of his opaque smile
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| In Bogie’s style
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| Though his girlfriend whistled like Lauren Bacall
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| In a world of trouble, nobody called
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| Humphrey’s brother, just a lover
|
| Humphrey’s brother, Humphrey’s brother
|
| Wasn’t tough at all
|
| In the protective smoke of the L.A. smog
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| In his detective trenchcoat by London fog
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| He walked into a bar where the plot was so thick
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| He said: «Play it again, Sam», and got out quick
|
| Humphrey’s brother, just a lover
|
| Humphrey’s brother, Humphrey’s brother
|
| Wasn’t tough at all
|
| When the movie was over on the silver screen
|
| And Mr. Bogart disappeared in his limousine
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| There was a real man left in this real damn world
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| No he was no prize fighter but he got the girl
|
| Humphrey’s brother, just a lover
|
| Humphrey’s brother, Humphrey’s brother
|
| Wasn’t tough at all |