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There is a rose in Spanish Harlem / A red rose up in Spanish Harlem / It is a special one, it’s never seen the sun / It only comes out when the moon is on the run / And all the stars are gleaming / Love is growing in the street, right through the concrete / Soft and dreaming.
There is a rose in Spanish Harlem / A rare rose up in Spanish Harlem / With eyes as black as coal, she looks down in my soul / And starts a fire there and then I lose control / I have to beg your pardon / I’m going to pick that rose and watch her as she grows / In my garden.
Don't even get me started on "Yakety Yak."
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