| I’m a superstar in her living room
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| I’m a superstud in her bed
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| And I own the greatest mind that the world has ever known
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| When she tells me what I’m thinking in my head
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| And I can’t believe that I need her love
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| When I’m obviously much too high and fine
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| And yet every now and then, I suspect within myself
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| She’s put in me everything I thought I was mine
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| I’m the man behind the woman
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| Who’s held captive by the man
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| She’s so far within me
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| If she left I wouldn’t stand
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| Certainly stumble
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| Probably crumble
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| I’ve a noble voice when I sing to her
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| But as I recall, she often sings along
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| And it’s just occurred to me, when she screams
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| A little bit
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| It’s to warn me off the route to somewhere wrong
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| I’m the man behind the woman
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| But she makes me think reverse
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| Builds me while I bind her
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| I get strong while she gets worse
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| I’m the man behind the woman
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| And I’m leaning on her love
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| I don’t want her underneath my thumb
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| But miles above
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| If I untied her
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| I might get beside her |