When you go to kiss our cheeks
We're gonna put out our hands
Because (all night!) we've been talking to liars
And it's (all right!) just not in the style of tigers
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Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself, Then is it likely thou wilt undertake A thing like death to chide away this shame, That copest with death himself to scape from it: And, if thou darest, I'll give thee remedy.
When you go to kiss our cheeks
We're gonna put out our hands
Because (all night!) we've been talking to liars
And it's (all right!) just not in the style of tigers
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