| Our love is a flower that blossoms in China
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| Cigarettes in boxes with roses in crates
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| I write your short name on my wrist in China
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| Ink so black that night you’re renamed
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| Ooooh… and trouble in the name
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| Oh Shanghai, who do you belong to?
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| Who do you care for and who do you forget?
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| Admit I got lost in your embrace
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| What to care for and what to forget?
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| Came another night and, slow, the wind rolled through Shanghai
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| Purple and green, the light under bridges and in the park
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| It’s not like in my Russian days when my brain shot with wit and style
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| But the bars are ours, and my heart is yours
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| And our love is a flower and a running horse
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| Ooooh… oh, stallion with your shiny polished black hooves
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| Oh Shanghai, who do you belong to?
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| Who do you care for and who do you forget?
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| Admit I got lost in your embrace
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| What to care for and what to forget?
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| The sparks outshine the stars when windmill scrapers in the sky
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| Fake of night and their burning clouds dark with their torch
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| It’s on the ground, underground, can you feel the underground
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| It’s really not here, it’s a little below to cover the holes, to cover the holes
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| Oooh… to say farewell to you
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| And to mean it too
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| Oh Shanghai, who do you belong to?
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| Who do you care for and who do you forget?
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| Admit I got lost in your embrace
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| What to care for and what to forget? |