The room is cold,
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and has been like this for several months.
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If I close my eyes,
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I can visualise everything in it,
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right down, right down to the broken handle on the third drawer down
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of the dressing table.
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And the world outside this room,
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has also assumed a familiar shape,
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the same events shuffeled in a slightly different order each day.
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Just like a modern shopping centre.
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And it's so cold - yeah it's so cold.
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It's so cold yeah, it's so cold.
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What is this feeling called love.
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Why me, why you, why here, why now.
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It doesn't make no sense no.
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It's not convenient no.
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It doesn't fit my plans no.
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It's something I don't understand oh.
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F.E.E.L.I.N.G. C.A. double L.E.D. L.O.V.E.
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Oh what is this thing that is happening to me.
|
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And as I'm standing across this room,
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I feel as if my whole life has been leading to this one moment.
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And as I touch your shoulder tonight,
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this room has become the centre of the entire universe.
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So what do I do? I've got a slightly sick feeling in my stomach,
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like I'm standing on top of a very high building, oh yeah.
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All the stuff they tell you about in the movies,
|
but this isn't chocolate boxes and roses.
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It's dirtier than that,
|
like some small animal that only comes out at night.
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And I see flashes of the shape of your breasts,
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and the curve of your belly,
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and I may have to sit down and catch my breath.
|
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Oh. What is this feeling called love.
|
Why me, why you, why here.
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And why now.
|
It doesn't make no sense no.
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It's not convenient no.
|
It doesn't fit my plans,
|
but I got that taste in my mouth again oh.
|
F.E.E.L.I.N.G. C.A. double L.E.D. L.O.V.E.
|
What is this thing that is happening to me
|
F.E.E.L.I.N.G. C.A.double L.E.D. L.O.V.E.
|
What is this thing that is happening to me.
|
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah.
|
|
-----------------
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F.E.E.L.I.N.G.C.A.L.L.E.D.L.O.V.E
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Pulp |