Oscar Wilde died in bed
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Several floors above my head
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Living well beyond his means
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In that crazy Paris scene
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Rain falls down in sheets so clear
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No one ever calls me here
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Traveling by my self these days
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I'm into jazz and felt berets
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Far from the that old eastern shore
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Searching for strange metaphors
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I don't want to be another victim of fashion
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I don't want to see my name in the paper each day
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Leave that to the young Turks
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They're more handsome and dashing
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Posing for paparazzi's down Laguna way
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Down in the metro I feel the world start to multiply
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Bastille, rubber wheels, spiked heels, subterranean lullaby
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Met an African prancer, a hemisphere dancer
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Spied the ghost of Brassens
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We smiled at the secret we shared
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And I hid it like contraband
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Quietly making noise, making noise
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Starts with kindergarten toys
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Not too soft not too loud
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Just enough to draw a crowd
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Quietly, quietly, quietly making noise
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Followed the beat, I found myself in this patois spot
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Outside a blizzard was blowing but inside the joint was hot
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Zouk songs, rubber thongs, sing-a-longs
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The words flew right by my face
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Rhythm and motions, a blamma jamma potion
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You cannot erase
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Quietly making noise, making noise
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Pissin off the old killjoys
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Glass packs on a hot Mustang
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A Telecaster with a twang
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Quietly, quietly, quietly making noise
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Singers and writers and poets
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Have flocked here for centuries
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The city of light is built upon mountains of memories
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Baritone saxophone, monotones
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Speak of the voice I've heard before
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It's a lasting impression
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A Gypsy expression you cannot ignore
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Quietly Making Noise
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Jimmy Buffett |