| We were white, conspicuously white
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| And bare like a canvas, to take life
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| From a brush that is paintless and dry
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| We were arm, conspicuously arm
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| And poor, too poor to get a life
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| We got bored, we got blood on our hands
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| Christine, though no one does, I care
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| Christine
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| Let’s go out, if you want it all right
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| You might get some air instead
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| And belong to the world that we roam
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| 'Cause tonight, as every odd night
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| The sky and its stars are on our side
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| There’s a light shaping hope by design
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| Christine, though no one does, I care
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| Christine
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| I feel light, touristy light and sharp
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| I absorb your colour life
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| There’s you, there’s me, there’s the night
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| Christine
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| Live it up though |