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Text: Crass. Penis Envy. Smother Love.

The true romance is the ideal repression
That you seek, that you dream of, that you look for in the streets
That you find in the magazines, the cinema, the glossy shops
And the music spins you round and round looking for the props
The silken robe, the perfect little ring
Will give you the illusion when it doesn't mean a thing
Step outside into the street and staring from the wall
Is perfection of the happiness that makes you feel so small
Romance, can you dance? D'you fit the right description?
Do you love me? Do you love me?
Do you want me for your own?
Do you love me, say you need me
So you know that I'm the one
Tell me I'm your everything, let us build a home
We can build a house for two, with little ones to follow
The proof of our normality that justifies tomorrow
Romance, romance
Do you love me? Say you do

We can leave the world behind and make it just for two
Love don't make the world go round, it holds it right in place
Keeps us thinking love's too pure to see another face
Love's another skin-trap, another social weapon
Another way to make men slaves and women at their beckon
Love's another sterile gift, another shit condition
That keeps us seeing just the one and others not existing
Woman in a holy myth, a gift of mans expression
She's sweet, defenceless, golden-eyed, a gift of gods repression
If we didn't have these codes for love, of tokens and positions
We'd find ourselves as lovers still, not tokens of possessions
It's a natural, it's a romance, without the power and greed
We can fight to life the cover if you want to sow a seed
Do you love me? Do you? Do you? Don't you see they aim to smother
The actual possibilities of seeing all the others?

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