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D To the doting boys by, your side E
A Riding roughshod on your starless nights D
D To she who played concertos, foul and black, E
A Upon my heart strings and never looked back D
E What becaFme of those, wild charmsBm? D G
The deep fry of the tide? The tug of the stars? D
D How it starD7es me, how it stares me now F Bm D D7 G
To think my fire burntG them out. D
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