I'm not the groover you thought I was
That was my brother in my open top
I'm not the lover you're looking for
I'd rather hoover than go outside
But I can learn to say sweet things
I'll fight my way through stones and slings
I wont hope you remember me
because it's all a case of identity
I'm not the guru you're looking for
Maybe I'm just a crooner from the bottom drawer
You came from nowhere to show me this
But I'm still a nightmare to live with
But I can learn how to breath
I'll make a vow to keep things sweet
I won't hope, get excited
You'll hear the sound of a wrong being righted
If you remember the pantomime
It's just three minutes of wasted time
I won't hope you remember me
Because it's all a case of identity
Oh groover
Why don't you move over, mister groover?
I'm not the groover (I thought you you were)
Such a sweet mover (I thought you were)
But I'm not the groover (I thought you were)
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