| I’m so far away from you
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| Pacing up and down my room
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| Does Jesus only love a man who loses?
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| I turn on the radio
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| There’s some cat on the saxophone
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| Laying down a litany of excuses
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| There’s madhouse longing in my baby’s eyes
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| She rubs the lamp between her thighs
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| And hopes the genie comes out singing
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| She lives in some forgotten song
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| And moves like she is zombie-strong
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| Breathes steady as the pendulum keeps swinging
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| You better hold on to yourself
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| Well, cities rust and fall to ruin
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| Factories close and cars go cruising
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| In around the borders of her vision
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| She says ooh
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| As Jesus makes the flowers grow
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| All around the scene of her collision
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| You know I would, yes, I would
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| I would hold on to yourself
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| In the middle of the night
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| I try my best to chase outside
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| The phantoms and the ghosts and fairy-girls
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| On 1001 nights like these
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| She mutters open sesame and Ali Baba and his forty thieves
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| Launch her off the face of the world
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| You know one day I’ll come back and I’d hold on to yourself
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| To yourself, I’d hold on to yourself
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| Ooh baby, I’m a 1000 miles away
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| And I just don’t know what to say
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| Cause Jesus only loves a man who bruises
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| But darling, we can clearly see
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| It’s all life and fire and lunacy
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| And excuses and excuses and excuses
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| Well, you know if I could, I would
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| I’d lie right down and I’d hold on to yourself
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| Yeah, I would lie right down and I would hold on to yourself
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| One day I’ll come back to you and I’d hold on to yourself
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| Yeah, I’m gonna come back, gonna lie down
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| And I would hold on to yourself
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| Yeah, to yourself |