| I know she doesn’t play the field
|
| But she likes to know the strength of the team
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| She says she doesn’t like my style
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| But I loved her in my own fashion
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| Kept her under wraps
|
| Planted lots of verbal traps
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| But she won’t be gone for long
|
| Nothing good ever comes of a bad mood
|
| And when she comes home
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| She’ll kick up some dust
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| And ask me what’s wrong
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| She’s a funny kind of girl
|
| Set sail in a ship in a bottle
|
| She’s a funny kind of girl
|
| Do the Swiss fake it when the yodal
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| She’s a funny kind of girl
|
| I know her face so well
|
| Although the color of her eyes
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| Escapes me for the moment
|
| Though her embrace
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| Is like being short-changed
|
| Or under-charged
|
| I’ll never revisit the scene of the crime
|
| Where I’ve seen you crying with glee
|
| She’s a funny kind of girl
|
| Give bad directions to a drunken sailor
|
| He ended up in the hills
|
| And she ended up
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| In the wrong hands
|
| She’s a funny kind of girl
|
| I’ll stick out my neck
|
| And I’ll raise the heavy head of importance
|
| And when the cap fits I’ll wear it
|
| But if I knew what made carpets fly
|
| I wouldn’t be sitting here
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| Twiddling my thumbs
|
| I’d threadbare my soul
|
| And wheedle my way
|
| Into other people’s lives
|
| And out of my own |