| It started out with a look
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| Sapphire eyes just to get me cookin
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| I knew I’d have ya by or crook that night
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| You walked me back to my place
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| With bad ideas on my mind, and my face
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| No rhyme or reason, it’s just the season for love
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| Last night a little birdie told me
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| I might not have your heart
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| on lock
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| I don’t mean to dig, but this town ain’t too big
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| And the walls are starting to ta-a-a-alk!
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| Spring flings come and go with the breeze
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| And all my friends without are sayin' I should be pleased
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| But it’d be nice to be your mane squeeze
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| Two weeks passed by and we barely saw the outside of my room
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| Breakfast in bed, and spoilin' a girl could get used to
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| After we came down to earth I didn’t see you for a moon
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| They told me you were gone with June
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| And June’s that dame who works at The Lagoon
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| I know we weren’t talkin' too much
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| Mostly we was knockin shoes
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| But when I hear you’re back in teh orchard pickin' apples
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| All i’m wonderin' is whos!
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| Who she is doesn’t matter, what the hell, au revoir!
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| But if one sliver of ya wants to stay where we are
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| I’m gonna need some poetry and talkin' till morn
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| And maybe get to chattin' bout a ring round this horn
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| That’s how it is, like it or not
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| So baby get to grovelin' or get till you’re gone
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| Just say i’m your mane squeeze
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| I’ve gotta stop the shakin
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| In my four poor knees!
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| Please say I’m your mane squeeze!
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| (spoken) or just get packin sugar |