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| Artist | Brooke Fraser |
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I wear a demeanor made of bright pretty things What she wears, what she wears, what she wears. Birds singing on my shoulder, in harmony it seems How they sing, how they sing how they sing. Give me nights of solitude, Red wine just a glass or two, Reclined in a hammock on a balmy evening. I'll pretend that it's no thing There's a skip in my heart when I think Of you thinking of me babe I'm crazy over you. ... |
