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Charade - Roland Kirk, Quincy Jones And His Orchestra: текст песни id 832
When we played our charade
We were like children posing
Playing at games, acting out names
Guessing the parts we played
Oh, what a bill we mad!
We came on next to closing
Best on the bill, lovers until
Love left the masquerade
Fate seemed to pull the strings
I turned, and you were gone!
While from the darkened wings
The music box played on
Sad little serenade!
Song of my heart’s composing
I hear it still, I always will
Best on the bill — charade
Fate seemed to pull the strings
I turned, and you were gone
While from the darkened wings
The music box played on
Sad little serenade!
Song of my heart’s composing
I hear it still, I always will
Best on the bill — charade
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