| In a bed with a cast and a Calvados,
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| I don’t really need nobody but myself cus
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| I don’t love anybody but myself, thus (is this a way of defining monophagus?)
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| I can’t ever confide, please open up wide
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| give me extra special pleasure with love on the side.
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| I didn’t give you anything and that’s what you got.
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| I wish I was different but I’m sure that I’m not.
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| (I don’t need nobody but myself cus
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| I don’t love anybody but myself, thus)
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| For I’m the Great Blondino
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| We were the vacancy crusaders with our combat kits
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| of a toothbrush and hearts mashed in tiny bits.
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| Trying to regain what we never had,
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| smiling about the good things amidst the bad.
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| So we save ourselves with Bombay Saphire unsafe sex,
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| twenty-four hours selfdestructive wrecks.
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| Sober thoughts dawn again, all the way sub rosa.
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| Starting up again when it’s already over,
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| but I’m the Great Blondino, not looking for a Queeno.
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| I’m sad I gave you nothing and that’s what you got.
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| I wish I was different but I’m sure that I’m not.
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| In a bed with a cast and a Calvados
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| in a perpetual feverish crave of your lust
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| kitchenfloor bruising, freaky sofa cruising
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| and the early birdy balcony Campari Orangejuicing.
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| I guess one could say you got me mezmerized,
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| but what has become one should be dechotomized.
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| I’m sad I gave you nothing and that’s what you got.
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| I wish I was different but I’m sure that I’m not. |