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Madeleine hears the bohemians say |
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She's selfish and crazy |
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Which isn't so far from the truth, |
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She's the essence of youth, |
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The flower you place on eternity's grave. |
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The romantic who isn't afraid |
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Of the beat of her heart, |
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She raises a glass to your art |
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And when she gets drunk she says... |
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Oh, give me the autumn, give me the trees, |
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Gather up everything I ever wanted |
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And give it me, please |
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Give me the ocean, give me the sea |
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Gather up everything I ever wanted |
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And share it with me |
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How many hearts are knocked down in the street ? |
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How many poets are driven |
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To drink and to verse, |
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By her singular eyes piercing out through a flight-path of |
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Rarified air |
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Where all the shiny black birds of the west |
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Make a rest in her hair ? |
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She raises a glass to your love |
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And when she gets drunk she says... |
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And you ask where she comes from |
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and she tells you: "the earth," |
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Like the place that you come from |
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Is a whole different world |
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She says "life is a banquet, |
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So why hang around |
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Catching crumbs from a table ? |
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Come share it with me." |