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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2009-09-01 | [Aestu textŭ lipseashti s-hibâ dghivâsitŭ tu english] | Ânyrâpsitŭ tu bibliotecâ di Corina Gina Papouis
On Waterloo Bridge, where we said our goodbyes,
the weather conditions bring tears to my eyes. I wipe them away with a black woolly glove And try not to notice I've fallen in love. On Waterloo Bridge I am trying to think: This is nothing. you're high on the charm and the drink. But the juke-box inside me is playing a song That says something different. And when was it wrong? On Waterloo Bridge with the wind in my hair I am tempted to skip. You're a fool. I don't care. the head does its best but the heart is the boss- I admit it before I am halfway across.
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