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Now what do you want to talk to me about?
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- There. - Three minutes?
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Well, either I've saved you nine,
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or I've talked myself out of a job.
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I still think you're cramping my style.
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Oh, please. You have no style to cramp.
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That lady at the bar keeps looking at me.
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As one would something in a museum.
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Why must you mock?
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I just want to feel young again.
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To feel needed as much as I need,
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if only for one night.