| I’m really sorry Steven
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| But your bicycle’s been stolen
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| I was watching it for you
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| 'Til you came back in the fall
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| Guess I didn’t do a good job after all
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| I was feeling really sorry Steven
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| And I spent all morning grieving
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| And everybody’s saying
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| That you’ll take the news gracefully
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| Somehow I don’t think I’ll get off that easily
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| I meant her no harm
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| When I left her unlocked
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| Outside the Orange Street Food Farm
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| I was just running in
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| Didn’t think I’d be that long
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| I came out, she was gone
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| And all that was there was some bored old dog
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| Leashed up to the place where your bicycle had been
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| Guess we’ll never see poor Madeleine again
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| Let this be consolation, Steven
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| That all the while you were in England
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| I treated her with care and respect
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| And gave her lots of love
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| And I was usually pretty good 'bout locking her up
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| Where has she gone?
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| Well, I bet she’s on the bottom of a Frenchtown pond
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| Rudely abused on some hescher’s joyride
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| So I wrote you this song
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| In the hope that you’d forgive me
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| Even though it was wrong
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| Being so careless with a thing so great
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| And taking your poor Madeleine away, away |