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Bobby was a man, he belonged to an old clan, |
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He had a sword with a handle made of silver, |
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He was no knight, he just couldn't really fight, |
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All he wanted was to stand in that magic light |
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His real aim, who's to blame, |
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Was to dance on a star, |
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Like a flame, with no shame, |
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He would fly so far |
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Once he touched a ray, but he lost it right away |
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It left a hole in his chest and he felt empty, |
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He was aware of the risk but he didn't care, |
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So he chased the light again, |
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It made another hole |
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His real aim, who's to blame, |
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Was to dance on a star, |
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Like a flame, with no shame, |
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He would fly so far |
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His real aim, it's not a game, |
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Was to ride on the moon, |
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Like a flame, with no shame, |
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He would escape the gloom |
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Life is a whore, there's no Bobby anymore, |
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He was more hole than his body so he disappeared, |
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His only legacy was his sword addressed to me, |
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Which I don't know, what to do with |
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His real aim, who's to blame, |
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Was to dance on a star, |
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Like a flame, with no shame, |
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He would fly so far |
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His real aim, it's not a game, |
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Was to ride on the moon, |
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Like a flame, with no shame, |
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He would escape the gloom |