| Marry me I may be a lie
|
| Marry me tell me the day that I die
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| Who’s got our future little one
|
| Will there be a honeymoon little one
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| Please lie! |
| Please lie!
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| But if memories could walk
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| Boy I’d lay awake nights
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| Now I can’t go home anymore little one
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| Now I don’t mind chopping wood
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| But the memory don’t do no-one no good
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| «See there’s this girl
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| I just can’t keep from
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| And hungry lie in wait for her shadow
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| To cross the window frame
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| Alight upon the venetian blind
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| Hoping for just one good claim
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| Upon that ectoplasmic stain!
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| And make her mine! |
| Make her mine!
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| This kind of thing happens all the time»
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| (Small dark hole in the soul and
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| loathe to touch me)
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| Marry me I may be a lie
|
| Marry me tell me the day that I die
|
| Who’s got our future little one?
|
| Will there be a honeymoon little one
|
| Please lie! |
| Please lie!
|
| Make a pillow for my head
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| Fallen leaves will make my bed
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| When I die don’t bury me alone
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| 'Cos I don’t think I’d take to kind
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| To the cold cold earth
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| Down full fathom five
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| This kind of thing happens all the time |