| In Dusseldorf I met a clown
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| His nose, it was red
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| In Gelterkinden I forgot to frown
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| Then remembered again
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| In Paris I saw a big fish
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| Swimming slow in the Siene
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| It made me hopeful that someday our water
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| Would be breathable again…
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| In Frankfurt I heard eins zwei drei
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| Counting cookies and no one was shot
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| In Berlin stopped by the Polizei
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| For drunk driving and everyone smiled
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| In Prague I knew I’d been a witch
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| Burnt alive, a pyre of Soviet kitsch
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| It made me miss my Moscow muttdom
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| It made me miss my New York nothing…
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| In Montpelier I stayed in a chateau
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| A boy climbed into my bed and he knew no boundaries
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| In Amsterdam I got quite crazy
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| It might have been all the tulips and canals
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| Or it might have been all that hash, and in
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| Barcelon, buenos dias, chocolato, le Picasso
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| And in Brussels, clean-cut hostel
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| And in London, me and the French existentialists…
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| In Corsica I floated away, all the way to Marseilles
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| I should have held an after party for all the thoughts I didn’t say
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| In Dusseldorf I met a dwarf
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| With bad breath and a really good tan
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| In Gelterkinden I remembered how to laugh
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| And I never ever forgot it again |