Different Drum by Lobo
You and I travel to the beat of a different drum
Oh, can't you tell by the way I run, every time you make eyes at me
You cry, and moan, and say it'll work out
But honey child, I've got my doubts
You can't see the forest for the trees
Don't get me wrong, it's not that I'd knock it
It's just that I, I'm not in the market for a girl who wants to love only me
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