Hanging at Azuls/Singers come in plural/They all sound so good/So much soul and set the mood/I wish I could sing/To be able to shine in dark and bling/Not looking at me but just my voice/I would definitely have more girls to pick from by choice/They would fall in love with words I sing and say/But reality of my voice scares them away/As I strain my voice to impress/They beg me suppress
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