| A quarter after midnight
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| I’m half-past out of reason
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| Our bodies still entwined from making love
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| While you’re asleep I tell you what I’m thinking of
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| In our apartment all the rooms
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| Have taken on your personality
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| The living room has overshadowed me
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| I feel as restless as these bedroom sheets
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| All my inhibitions disappear
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| Suddenly the words escape
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| And I make-believe you’re listening
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| I say: «Baby, are you awake?»
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| My concentration flutters
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| Like a candle’s temperamental flame
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| Can’t talk to you, can’t tell you
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| Can’t share this little hell with you
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| You’re slipping through my fingers
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| I’m falling from your arm
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| And when I whisper all the secrets that I keep
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| You probably think I’m talking in my sleep
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| All my inhibitions disappear
|
| Suddenly the words escape
|
| And I make-believe you’re listening
|
| I say: «Baby, are you awake?»
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| Baby, are you awake?
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| You reach for me and call my name
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| And softly breathe against my skin
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| Your voice is echoing familiar sentences
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| Ohh, you’ve been listening to every word I said
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| All my inhibitions disappear
|
| Suddenly the words escape
|
| And I make-believe you’re listening
|
| I say: «Baby, are you awake?»
|
| All my inhibitions disappear
|
| Suddenly the words escape
|
| And I make-believe you’re listening
|
| I say: «Baby, are you awake?» |