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The lanes were silent
There was nothing, no one
Nothing around for miles
I doused our friendly venture
With a hard faced
Three word gesture
I started something
I forced you to a zone
And you were clearly
Never meant to go
Hair brushed and parted
Typical me, typical me, typical me
I started something
And now I'm not too sure
I grabbed you by the guilded beams
That's what tradition means
And I doused another venture
With a gesture
That was absolutely vile
I started something
I forced you to a zone
And you were clearly
Never meant to go
Hair brushed and parted
Typical me, typical me, typical me
I started something
And now I'm not too sure
I grabbed you by the guilded beams
That's what tradition means
And now eighteen months' hard labour
Seems fair enough
I started something
And I forced you to a zone
And you were clearly
Never meant to go
Hair brushed and parted
Typical me, typical me, typical me
I started something
And now I'm not too sure
I started something
I started something
Typical me, typical me, typical me
Typical me, typical me, typical me
Typical me
I started something
And now I'm not too sure
ALBUM: STRANGEWAYS, HERE WE COME (1987)
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