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This feeling makes me feel bold Makes me feel special, like two teaspoons of gold Makes me feel wanted, like a jewel a-hold Makes me feel yearned for, in its slavery I’d gladly be sold This feeling makes me want
When a pianist loses his keys, A designer, her sketch pencils, An addict, his fix Or an add alcoholic his brew. When music looses tune, Or a carpenter his wood. When coal turns white, And the Dead Sea comes alive.