| Well my kind’s been around forever
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| And I claim to be one of the few
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| But the lost cause of words walks away with my nerves
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| Cause I’m gay as a choir boy for you
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| You got hair that recalls me of rivers
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| Runs softly while you dream of you
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| But your heart is so cold that it shivers
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| Cause all that I know is that I’m nothing to you
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| And I followed you into the party
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| That no one invited me to
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| But alone I made love to my forty
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| And played make-believe it was you
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| But I watched you forget your belongings
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| And belongings you’ve got quite a few
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| I filled up your bag with my longings
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| And searched through this whole wide city for you
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| And we’ll walk beneath the street lamps forever
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| You’ll say you remind me of you
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| It’s so damn cliche that it’s clever
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| It’s so fucking false you think that it’s true
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| Cause I heard that you forgot that you were a lover
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| And lovers you’ve got one or two
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| But you can’t tell one from the other
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| Now mama, now you’re nothing to you
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| And it’s down by the riverside (wasting away)
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| And it’s down by the riverside (beating the clay) |