| I was 19, and dead from the neck up
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| She was a Christian rock ingenue
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| Sentimental as a cat’s grave
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| Her fucking body broke my eyes
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| And she said, «I'm gonna love the hell out of you»
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| Brandy wine rained on an android cross
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| Even the swans were bankrupt and blue
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| I’d been a liar my whole life
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| She said, «I wanna be your wife»
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| And she said, «I'm gonna love the hell out of you»
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| In a lonely Swedish bookstore, banging a librarian
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| The sound of rain and lightning was my cue
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| I fixed the Preakness in the rain
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| I had a weakness for cocaine
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| And she said
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| I learned double entry bookkeeping when I was 12 years old
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| I learned there’s no imagination in the blues
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| They registered my name with the Catholic hall of fame
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| And she said, «I'm gonna love the hell out of you» |