by Dean Friedman
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I met my love Hillary at the local distillery.
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She was leaning so languidly, on the window sillery.
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And I was glued to my seat as I gazed at her feat.
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Hey, Hey, Hillary. Hey, Hey, Hillary.
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My heart was hi-jacked. My lips were gobsmacked.
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Her hair was shimmering. My brain was simmering.
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Then my blood began to boil. My desire would not be foiled.
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Hey, Hey, Hillary. Hey, Hey, Hillary.
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Hey, Hey, Hillary. Hey, Hey, Hillary.
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Right then and there I made a vow.
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I'm gonna make her mine somehow.
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Hey, Hey, Hillary. Hey, Hey, Hillary.
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My head was spinning like a top, as I offered her a cough drop.
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And as she placed it on her tongue,
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My stomach did a flip-flop.
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When I invited her to dance,
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That was the start of our romance.
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Hey, Hey, Hillary. Hey, Hey, Hillary.
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And though she's got her share of quirks.
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Living with her has got its perks.
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Hey, Hey, Hillary. Hey, Hey, Hillary.
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Now we live the way we do, in our cozy little igloo.
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Feasting on corn flakes, marzipan and hot cakes.
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And when she leans against the sink, she's my saucy little sausage link.
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Hey, Hey, Hillary, Hey, Hey, Hillary.
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And though it may sound strange to say.
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I thank my god everyday.
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Hey, Hey, Hillary. Hey, Hey, Hillary.
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Hey, Hey, Hillary¡¦
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Hey, Hey, Hillary
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Dean Friedman |