I should have forgotten you long ago, but you're in every song I know. Wining and pining is wrong, and so on and so forth, of course, of course, but no, you can't have a divorce. I haven't seen you in ages, but it's not as bleak as it seems. We still dance on whirling stages in my Busby Berkeley dreams. The tears have stained all the pages of my True Romance magazines. We still dance in my outrageously beautiful Busby Berkeley dreams. And now you want to leave me for good. I refuse to believe you could. You forget we're not made of wood. Well, darling you may do your worst, because you'll have to kill me first.
(repeat chorus)
Do you think it's dangerous to have Busby Berkeley dreams?
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