| Once upon a sign I read a warning and it said
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| 'When in Rome don’t feed the lions'
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| What is meant I can’t hazard a guess
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| But now I’ve learnt my lesson I’m a better person
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| I’m filled up with high hopes and I’m fed up with soft soaps
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| Long in the tooth and short on wisdom
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| Up to here with the ache of it
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| And if the matchmaker calls hand in hand
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| With a catch of the day I’ll rise to the bait
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| But it’ll still be more than a heart can take
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| More than feeling great
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| More than a tongue can tell
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| I’d need to take leave of my senses to get a moment’s rest
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| Following in footsteps
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| Footsure in fancy dress
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| Head in my hands I’m making plans
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| Hoovering up for the day
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| And if the matchmaker calls hand in hand
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| With a catch of the day I’ll rise to the bait
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| But it’ll still be more than a heart can take
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| More than feeling great
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| More than a tongue can tell
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| And the itch to get rich quick
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| Has never been so hard to reach
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| With my hands tied behind my back
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| Shin deep in cement and sand
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| Just like the anchor-man I broke loose
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| And crashed to the sea bed
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| Clutching the shortest straw
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| And if you threw me a line that’s as smart as you think
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| It wouldn’t stop me sinking down to cry
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| On what flashed before my eyes |