| You offered me a cigarette, I pirouette… with sihlouettes of statuettes.
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| We’re ice behind a window. |
| Would you be my widow? |
| Would you even be my wife? |
| Life’s not long enough for questions of sessions over cakes and
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| coffees. |
| Therapy, I’ve had enough of — I want to change things overnight,
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| because I’ve been alone too long. |
| too long. |
| too long…
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| And you say you understand me when I hardly know myself.
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| So much talk so many theories — it’s really such a bore for me.
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| The story stays the same — it goes on and on…
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| What gives you the right to analyze? |
| You paralyze me with your probing.
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| In the end I just agree… Maybe we’re just puppets after all.
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| Love puppets. |
| (not glove puppets! Hearts of gold, souls on string.
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| My soul’s on a string… Love Puppets! |
| My heart’s a shiny gold.)
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| Why the tricks? |
| Why the teasers? |
| Can’t I even please you for an hour?
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| Won’t you simply listen? |
| I’ve got a lot to say
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| about us and plans and things that we could do…
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| (I need you NOW don’t leave me…) |