Oh Roxy, don't you love me?
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Is it because I'm American?
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Maybe it's because I don't grope you and your friends
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Like the fool behind you now dancing halfway down your pants
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Somewhere near the border of Spain and France
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A bottle of bad red wine in my head
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Sixty francs to look like a fool and dance
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Mechanics understand not what I said
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Thinkin' 'bout the time that I had, how sad
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Her one-word shirt describes my plight in red
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And her name is a reoccurring theme
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Start a move that everyone knows, the awkward pose
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And in the meantime, her eyes finding me
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Reluctantly I start the approach, her eyes, they glow
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But it's not glee, it's fear - that's why she flees
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Sing of girls I wish that I knew
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Her eyes rung true, her one-word shirt now stabbing sparkling blue
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And her name is a barely flickering flame
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Oh Roxy, don't you love me?
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Is it because I'm American?
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Maybe it's because I don't grope you and your friends
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Like the fool behind you now dancing halfway down your pants
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Roxy's spinnin' around, or is it me that's down?
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How many fingers do I see? Is it three by now?
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Stands on top of the stairs and screams for who? Who cares?
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All that matters now is my eyes like Apollo's, become clear.
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Somewhere near the border of pain and romance,
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Her name is undetermined as of yet
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Potential for a Roxy again has always been
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The hardest part to get out of my head
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Comes full circle all in the end, I hope
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Could one-word shirts in songs be just a joke?
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And her name is a never-ever-ending game
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Oh Roxy, don't you love me?
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Why do I gotta be American?
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Maybe it's because I don't grope you and your friends
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Like the fool behind you now dancing halfway down your pants
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-----------------
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Roxy
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Ludo |