Sylvia rubs buttercups on her chin
If the color comes off, she says, she's in love, love, love
Sylvia rubs buttercups on her chin
But the color doesn't come off
If it meant nothing
How come there is something
Keeping us from talking
If it meant nothing
How come I was running
Away from something
Sylvia rubs buttercups on her chin again
'Cause buttercups, they build you up and let you down again
If it meant nothing
How come there is something
Keeping us from talking
If it meant nothing
How come I was running
Away from something
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