Letra original
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Years from now, they will make water from the reservoirs of our idiot tempers.
Soon enough, work and love will make a man out of you. Through and through.
Your gentleman father would pray for a daughter, as he walked from room to room saying
"Women are winning the tournament of hearts. Somebody's got to lose..."
Soon enough, work and love will make a man out of you. Through and through.
Soon enough.
