| Every evening, eight o’clock, the curtain’s up, the band begins to play
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| The mayor’s there, his lovely wife’s been squeezed into the fashions of the day
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| You make your entrance on time
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| Decadent, thrilling, divine
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| You’re hypnotic, so exotic, the audience just sighs and melts away
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| Encore, show us more
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| Sweet Gipsy Rose-a
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| Encore, they shout more
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| Se magnifica
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| Such a pretty face, than of you bolding into space
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| So give them more, encore
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| Tre magnifica
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| Twelve o’clock, the stage is bare, the curtain’s down, the show comes to an end
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| Waiting in the wings, I see the silhouette of him, your current friend
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| Without me, your show wouldn’t be
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| Professional right down to a «T»
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| Yes, I’m the one who pulls the curtain down, yes, I’m the one you’ll never see
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| Encore, show them more
|
| Sweet Gipsy Rose-a
|
| Encore, they shout more
|
| Se magnifica
|
| Such a pretty face, will send me flying into space
|
| So give them more, encore
|
| Tre magnifica
|
| Without me, your show wouldn’t be
|
| Professional right down to a «T»
|
| Yes, I’m the one who pulls the curtain down, yes, I’m the one you’ll never see
|
| Encore, show them more
|
| Sweet Gipsy Rose-a
|
| Encore, they shout more
|
| Se magnifica
|
| Such a pretty face, has got me flying up in space
|
| So give us more, encore
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| Tre magnifica |