| I leapt across three or four beds into your arms
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| Where I had hidden myself somewhere in your charm
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| Our golden handshake has been smashed into this shape.
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| It’s taken magic to a primitive new place
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| Watch 'em run, although it’s the minimum, heroic
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| We hunched together in one chair out on the deck
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| In snow that froze and fell down on the modern set
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| It looked as if I picked your name out of a hat
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| Next thing you know you are asleep in someone’s lap
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| Watch 'em run, although it’s the minimum, heroic
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| We quit the room
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| Quit so our thoughts could rest
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| Rest them, I’ll never move?
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| That’s when we grab a hold
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| Of whatever it is we fell into
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| Lousy with your content
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| With what the majestic cannot find
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| In business of your lives
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| The perception, it is wrong, mile after mile
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| The phantom taste drinking wine from your heels
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| We have arrived too late to play the bleeding heart show |