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Casa Batllo |
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She smelled like a thunderstorm |
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When I met her |
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Down in the tenderloin |
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Sipping tea |
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Vicodin pills, some scotch |
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And a sweater |
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Soon I was feeling |
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Back on my feet |
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She lived in a little shack |
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By the water |
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The sound of the ships |
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Would lull us to sleep |
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A couple of sloths the world |
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Had forgotten |
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With nothing but youth |
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& faraway dreams |
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After the saints fly home |
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Solomon resting in his tomb |
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Paperbacks on a train |
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Sugarcane fields |
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All wet with rain |
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Hurricane lanterns glow |
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After the rain the boats are slow |
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I'd rather be left behind |
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Nothing's as pure as an empty mind |