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Use A− / A+ para ajustar a leituraMad About the Boy
I'm mad about the boyI know it's stupid to be mad about the boyI'm so ashamed of it but must've admitThe sleepless nights I've had, about the boyOh-oh-oh, on the silver screenHe melts my foolish heart in every single sceneAlthough I'm quite aware, that here and thereAre traces of the cad about the boyLord knows, I'm not a fool, boyI really shouldn't careLord knows, I'm not a school boyIn the fury of his first affairWill it ever cloyThis odd diversity of misery and joyI'm feeling quite insane and young againAnd all because I'm mad about the boySo if I could employA little magic that will finally destroyHistory, it pains me and it chains me'Cause I'm mad about the boyI'm mad about the boyI'm mad about the boyAbout the boy
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