| Oh Silvia
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| I was dancing to Michael Jackson, oh Silvia
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| When I heard your German accent, oh Silvia
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| And I went down on my knees for her majesty
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| Your royal highness
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| Is that how you shall be adressed? |
| Oh her highness
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| I’m always at your service, oh her highness
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| Will you listen when I now confess
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| I’ve been hurting again, a cold black diamond
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| The same kind of pain that I had when I was seven
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| Do you remember when I shook your hand?
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| Oh Silvia
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| I took my bike to the cemetery, oh Silvia
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| And I claimed my territory, oh Silvia
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| Smoked a cigarette, blew smoke rings in the face of Death
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| And this town will be cold when it gets hit by a comet
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| By the harbor, we found a boat with your name written on it
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| And I had blood in my mouth when I spit
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| Oh Silvia
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| Oh her highness
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| I heard you say in some interview that «feminist»
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| Was something that didn’t suit you--a lack of interest perhaps
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| Or maybe you’re just stupid and inbred
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| But I still remember when I saw you as a goddess
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| Your picture on my wall so gentle and modest
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| Do you see these tears in my face?
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| I thought we had a deal
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| That the one who falls from grace
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| Would be the one to kneel
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| Now it’s just you and me, Silvia
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| Don’t shed no useless tears
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| Oh Silvia, no one will care in a hundred years
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| No one will ever forget your name
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| They’ll look after your grave
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| «But it’s not the same,» you say
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| Now it’s just you and me, Silvia
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| It’s just you and me
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| It’s just you and me |