| Well it seems she’ll play the same old piece to play along,
|
| Because the audience never listened to her mermaid song,
|
| That temptation was a sunny isle where all that lives is dead,
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| Don’t choose its shadows to make your bed.
|
| Behind that painted lady, there’s a masterpiece,
|
| Behind the painted lady, she’s a masterpiece,
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| But she doesn’t care to think so; |
| no she hasn’t got belief,
|
| That’s what she’s wearing over her face,
|
| Singing, oh! |
| Take me back to me, oh! |
| The original me,
|
| Oh! |
| Take me back to me, the original me.
|
| And when the sun descends she’ll be the swan song silhouette,
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| And even down the road she’ll be the last to leave your head,
|
| And you’ll feel like your marooned upon that sunny isle instead,
|
| Don’t choose its shadows to make your bed.
|
| Singing, oh! |
| Take me back to you, oh! |
| The original you,
|
| Oh! |
| Take me back to you, the original you. |