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When you tucked my tails, |
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smoothed my hair, |
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on the steps of the Metropolitan |
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I was holding my breath, |
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hedging my bets, |
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heavy on speculation |
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that you were inviting me in |
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to wander the lengths of your hallowed halls, |
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to be lectured on the dangers |
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of sinking ships. |
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"I'll be quiet, sir. I won't say nothing at all." |
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But couldn't you just get lost in this watery grave? |
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Standing on the decks of sinking ships |
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hands on my shoulders |
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you're steering me. |
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But couldn't you just get lost |
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on the pitch and roll of these waves? |
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So many sailors lost to this drunken sea. |
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So says the ocean: "What's that got to do with me?" |
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I found you lost |
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in front of some spill of brilliant oils |
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all hemmed in by gilded frames |
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and filigreed names; |
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a blush of cooling flesh. |
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And then you say flip, |
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some general spill of devotion |
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all whistled through your crooked teeth. |
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I never noticed your crooked teeth. |
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You're crying but you've never met. |
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"Well, that's the point I guess. |
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You missed the point I guess." |
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I missed the point, I guess. |
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"Well here's my point I guess: |
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her back is broken she washed up a mess. |
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Well, here's my point I guess: |
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What's she got to do with me? |
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Well, here's my point I guess: |
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her back is broken and I run free." |
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Little stallion kicking up the sand: |
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run free. |
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The cockles aren't giving up their pearls |
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and this is free. |
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So many pearls, so many pearls, so many tossed off. |
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But couldn't you just get lost |
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on this swollen sea? |
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Standing on the deck of sinking ships, |
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hands on my shoulders |
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you're steering me. |
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But couldn't you just get lost |
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on the pitch and the roll and the sway? |
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So many sailors lost to this drunken sea. |
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So says the ocean: "What's that got to do with me?" |
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So many sailors lost to this drunken sea. |
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So many sailors lost to me... |