| She knows — about all the evil in this world
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| She knows — what blackness lurks in our souls
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| She parts her lips and gives me a literary quip
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| Sharper and sweeter than any cat-o-nine tails whip
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| She makes me feel like a king
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| She is the reasoning that makes life swing
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| She says — come on and swing away from blue
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| She says — don’t yeild to it’s atmospheric hue
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| She’s got the power to make things turn out right
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| Even in the darkest hour of the very blackest night
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| She makes me feel like a king
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| She is the reasoning that makes life swing
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| Eyes limped and pools of passion
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| Lips of deepest darkest damson
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| Fingers probing show white skin
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| Like a leather disciplinary
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| Looking rather predatory
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| Like an emissary of sin
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| She knows — we’ve got nothing more to prove
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| She knows — we’re dancing in a dead mans shoes
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| She says let’s check out of this haunted hotel
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| Where all the corridors and doorways are leading straight to hell
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| She makes me feel like a king
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| She is the reasoning that makes life swing
|
| She makes me feel like a king
|
| She is the reasoning that makes life swing
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| She drags my world awake |