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And then this evening
when you were—who knows—
at your home? and I
was here alone, thinking could this love
be true? I found myself

with folded hands, praying anew:
what should I do? what should I do?
After the one-two one-two
of all night dancing with you,
what else could I do?

Oh you honey dew
come back soon. Who cares
if it's true but while it's new
I'd rather my two hands
were full of you.