The Smiths wonderful woman

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Here her head she lay
Until she'd rise and say
Im starved of mirth
Lets go and trip a dwarf
Oh, what to be done with her ?
Oh, what to be done with her ?
Ice water for blood
With neither heart or spine
And then just to pass time
Let us go and rob the blind
What to be done with her ?
I ask myself
What to be said of her ?
But when she calls me
I do not walk, I run
Oh, when she calls
I do not walk, I run, oh, oh, oh

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