| Was it you, gazing out from magazines, magazines?
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| Sun through the blinds, mornings in Rome
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| Talking so fine, feeling so low
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| Bright magazines, strewn on the floor
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| Took their revenge, chose to ignore
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| Roman spring, coloured everything with days in store
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| Was it you, gazing out from magazines, magazines?
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| Inside information, glossy invitations from
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| Galaxies of laughing souls
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| And the wine, made you dance in time
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| Time to see the dawn
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| Knights in arms, lie in sympathy, bleeding on the lawn
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| Was it you, gazing out from magazines, magazines?
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| Inside information, the glossy invitations
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| To chronicles of love and pain
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| Come the Fall, on your balcony, against the wall
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| Feel a chill, turn around to find, no-one there at all
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| Just magazines |