| Born in southern Spain
|
| A nagging, loud refrain
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| Repeated in my room, embellished with my voice
|
| A worn, old guitar
|
| A host of scarlet scars
|
| never seen a bar, it was not my choice
|
| A set of endless sayings
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| Can’t take them out my pens
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| I let them wreck this soul, erotic and naive
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| God took a stance on me
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| but he won’t let me be
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| I shunned him purposely, and with the soft eyes I always seem to weave
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| But you still want me
|
| Now that I see, now that I see
|
| Though you still warned me
|
| Now that I see, now that I see
|
| Now I gaze behind
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| That I don’t seem to mind
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| That I didn’t wreck it all, and urinate on grace
|
| It’s a record of
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| that once precocious love
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| below the last of us
|
| If you might still have it, spir it upon my face
|
| Though you still want me
|
| Now that I see, now that I see
|
| Though you still need me
|
| Now that I see, now that I see
|
| Some people, they always want something that they can’t have
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| That they can never have
|
| Some people want something that they can never have
|
| That they can never have
|
| They can never have
|
| They can never have
|
| They can never have
|
| They can never have
|
| Do you still want me
|
| Now that I see, now that I see
|
| (Born in southern Spain
|
| A nagging, loud refrain
|
| Repeated in my room)
|
| Though you still need me
|
| Now that I see, this is that I mean this
|
| (A worn, old guitar
|
| A host of scarlet scars
|
| never seen a bar)
|
| Do you want me
|
| Now that I see, now that I see
|
| (Born in southern Spain
|
| A nagging, loud refrain
|
| Repeated in my room)
|
| Do you still need me
|
| now that I see, now that I see
|
| (A worn, old guitar
|
| A host of scarlet scars
|
| never seen a bar)
|
| All I want, all I am
|
| All I want, all I am
|
| All I want, all I am
|
| All I have, all I am |