| Striking matches and I’m smoking cigarettes
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| Putting on the kettle, playing a cassette
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| Folding up the papers rubbing my eyes
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| Thinking of all that had happened last night
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| The passion, the feelings that soaked in her love
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| And the pools of silence when kisses were sprung
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| Her love levitates me, I’m walking on air
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| Two feet from the carpet, I’ll always be there
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| Oooh I’m striking matches it’s morning again
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| I look in the mirror I still look the same
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| I’m striking matches it’s morning again
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| I look in the mirror I go up in flames
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| Striking matches getting a flame on the stove
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| There’s some of her in the teeth of my comb
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| Dirty clothes piled up on the bathroom floor
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| She’s silently sleeping, I half close the door
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| I see her beauty laying on my bed
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| I’m warm from within me with what she has said
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| Her love is my balloon, I won’t let it down
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| For ever and ever I’ll always be proud
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| I’m a director casting for a part
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| (Turn on the light)
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| It’s for a soap set here right in my heart
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| (Leave her alone)
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| Shuffle to the window shuffle to the door
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| (Don't wake her up)
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| She gets the part I don’t want to see anymore
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| (Unplug the phone) |