The earth is burning my old plans like incense
I turned around to fragrant smoke
Where once he stood
A funny joke that once was good
made me laugh
But my better half turned out to be my better judgement
So now, I don't shuffle, I walk
I pick up these pieces of talk
Assemble them into pretty things.
Who would have thought
a telephone ring
would wrap more right round my finger
than gold from the kings
Watch me fly to his side
like there's fire on my wings
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