| Bobby was a man, he belonged to an old clan
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| He had a sword with a handle made of silver
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| He was no knight, he just couldn’t really fight
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| All he wanted was to stand in that magic light
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| His real aim, who’s to blame
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| Was to dance on a star
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| Like a flame, with no shame
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| He would fly so far
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| Once he touched a ray, but he lost it right away
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| It left a hole in his chest and he felt empty
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| He was aware of the risk but he didn’t care
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| So he chased the light again
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| It made another hole
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| His real aim, who’s to blame
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| Was to dance on a star
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| Like a flame, with no shame
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| He would fly so far
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| His real aim, it’s not a game
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| Was to ride on the moon
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| Like a flame, with no shame
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| He would escape the gloom
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| Life is a whore, there’s no Bobby anymore
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| He was more hole than his body so he disappeared
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| His only legacy was his sword addressed to me
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| Which I don’t know, what to do with
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| His real aim, who’s to blame
|
| Was to dance on a star
|
| Like a flame, with no shame
|
| He would fly so far
|
| His real aim, it’s not a game
|
| Was to ride on the moon
|
| Like a flame, with no shame
|
| He would escape the gloom |