Jezebel...From Israel,
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Who never read a book,
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Charmed the literati,
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And a smile was all it took.
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I was laughing with Picasso,
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When she first entered the room,
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But Gershwin, Tristan, Tzara,
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And Man Ray saw her too.
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There was never any doubt,
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All would try to take her home,
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But she refused their every move,
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Preferred to be alone.
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And a rose...A rose is a rose.
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Zelda had a breakdown,
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Fitzgerald hit the bar.
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His hand was broken, words were spoken,
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Didn't get too far.
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Hemmingway was smoother,
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More debonaire and fun,
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But he would say her repartee,
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Was meaner than a gun.
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Chorus:
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And a rose...
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A rose is a rose is a rose is a rose is a rose...
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Said my good friend Gertrude Stein.
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She knows that I go to the ol' Deux Magots,
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And I drink Pernod through the night.
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Jezebel...From Israel,
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Who never read a book,
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She charmed the literati
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And a smile was all it took.
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Before her Joyce will babble,
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And Pound has gone insane,
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Eliot is paralyzed by,
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Thoughts of April rain.
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When she refused Lenin,
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He vowed to start a war.
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Stravinsky beat The Rite of Spring,
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Right there on the floor.
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Chorus
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And then one night she's missing,
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A riot soon began.
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No one could stand the thought of Jezzie with another man.
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I raced down winding streets,
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I broke into her house.
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You never guess who Jezebel,
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Was kissing on the couch.
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A rose...A rose is a rose...
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Hi Jezzie. Hi there, Gertrude.
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Am I interrupting something?
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A rose is a rose is a rose is a rose is a rose...
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-----------------
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A Rose is a Rose
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Poe |