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Dancing With Mr D (Live / Forest National Arena, Brussels / 17/10/73)
by
The Rolling Stones
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Down in the graveyard where we have our tryst The air smells sweet, the air smells thick He never smiles, his mouth merely twists The breath in my lungs feels clinging and thick But I know his name, he's called Mr. D And one of these days, he's gonna set you free Human skull hanging right around his neck The palms of my hands is clammy and wet Lord, I was dancing, dancing, dancing so free Dancing, dancing, dancing so free Dancing, Lord, keep your hands off me Dancing with Mr. D Yeah Well, well Will it be poison put in my glass? Will it be slow, or will it be fast? The bite of a snake, the sting of a spider A drink of Belladonna on a Toussaint night Hiding in a corner in New York City Looking down a .44 in West Virginia
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