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Would you stand up for this kind of beauty? |
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Cause this kind of beauty won't stand up for you. |
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It won't lift a finger |
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for some lazy dreamer. |
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Here it comes the average dirty word, |
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pardon my French |
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But I'm sitting on an park bench, |
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watching yearning cats |
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milk-fed little brats. |
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And they say: |
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Love won't pick |
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the slanted or the slick |
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or the lovesick, |
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and I'm lovesick. |
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So I say |
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F-word, f-word |
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pardon my French |
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but it's bs, bs |
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can't you feel the stench? |
|
F-word, f-word |
|
pardon my French |
|
but it's bs, bs. |
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Summer evening, |
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cats are screaming |
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for love. |
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Is summer evening, |
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the cats screaming |
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for love. |
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So I say |
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F-word, f-word |
|
pardon my French |
|
but it's bs, bs |
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can't you feel the stench? |
|
F-word, f-word |
|
pardon my French |
|
but it's bs, bs |
|
can't you feel the stench? |
|
F-word, f-word |
|
pardon my French |
|
but it's bs, bs |
|
can't you feel the stench? |
|
F-word, f-word |
|
pardon my French |
|
but it's bs, bs |
|
can't you feel the stench? |
|
F-word, f-word |
|
pardon my French |
|
but it's bs, bs |
|
can't you feel the stench? |
|
F-word, f-word |
|
pardon my French |
|
but it's bs, bs. |