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Back in the summer of '91 |
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An angel with a lizard's tongue |
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Was scheming for a holy broken nose |
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Linked to every class of men |
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Sprung out from the sparkling sins |
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Leaning on the cold electric stove |
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On a country road I swerved to the side |
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Trying to avoid a country bumpkin |
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Everyone's in line to meet with the man |
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Who blatantly inspired his generation |
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When they shake his hand and their fingers explode |
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Breaking both our necks by the tips of our toes |
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Then they turn to me 'cause you died I suppose |
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But I can't seem to glance fast enough to be sure |
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Back to summer days,cold hands on the beach |
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Memories of thrills designed to please you |
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Down the fragrant path I strayed towards the bath |
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Suddenly I lived to learn to feed you |
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Down on bended knee ,where I've been for a while |
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Set the record straight in the old fashioned style |
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Never took too much though I should have made more |
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You are still my friend ,though you were not before |
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