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Hanover Street CD1

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My God, it's the baby!
Are you all right?
I'm frightfully sorry.|It appears you've missed your bus.
I'm terribly sorry. I didn't...
You missed your bus.
- I don't own a bus.|- I'll buy you one.
How nice... a rich Yank!|No, thank you.
If you don't want a bus,|would you like a cup of coffee?
I don't drink coffee.
I drink tea.
There probably won't be another|bus along here for quite some time.
Probably not.
You really drink|this stuff, don't you?
No, we just like to pour it|into cups and stir it.
Why did you ask?
Tastes too much|like boiled water.
- It is boiled water.|- I knew there was a reason.
- Where are you from?|- Chicago.
That's where gangsters|come from, isn't it?
Not all of them. Some come|from Detroit, New York.
- Chicago grows the best ones.|- Are you a gangster?
Twelve arrests,|no convictions.
Nobody's supposed to look|like that in a uniform.
- How am I supposed to look?|- Like a short man.
Your boiled water|is getting cold.
Then let's order some more.
All right.
What about you?
What about "what about me"?
Who are you?|What are you?
I'm a short man.
I was born in London.
I've lived here all my life|and most probably always will.
- What do you do here?|- I work in a hospital.
I tell young men|they're going to be all right...
and they believe me|because they want to...
because they're so young.
Then I watch them die.
I want it to all end.
I'll win the war for you.
That would be nice.
Are you stationed in London?
No, our base is|an hour and a half from here.
Normally, I get a day|every couple weeks.
- You're a pilot?|- Yeah, B-25s.
- Do you like to fly?|- I hate to walk.
My name's Halloran.|What's yours?
Tell me about America.
I think you're lovely.
- Tell me about Chicago.|- Chicago's very windy.
- Something is happening here.|- Please don't.
Please don't what?
- I have to go.|- I don't want you to go.
- I shouldn't be here.|- Yes, you should.
I have to go.
- I have to catch the bus.|- Don't leave like this.
- I have to.|- I wanna see you again.
I can't.
Please, I just have a few hours|before I have to be back.
Please don't do this to me.
- We got to get into a shelter.|- I'm sorry, but I can't!
You're trying to go away again,|but I'm not gonna let you.
I'm not gonna let you.
I can't think.|I have to go home now.
- I'll take you there.|- No, you can't.
I have to go.
My name's Halloran.|David Halloran.
I'm from Chicago.|I'm not gonna let you go.
- Tell me your name.|- I'm sorry.
You're in my arms,|and you won't tell me your name?
- Please let me go.|- I have to see you again.
My next day off|is in two weeks, Thursday.
- I can't.|- Meet me here. Right here.
- No.|- On the same corner. Right here.
- I won't be here.|- I will.
I'll be here all day.
Please don't.|I won't come.
I'll be here.
You can't act like nothing's happened.|There's not enough time.
It's too late.
The objective this morning|is this airfield...
north-northeast of Rouen.
Reconnaissance shows we didn't|do too well here last night.
These dark circles here|are fuel storage tanks.
They're under concrete...
so it will take more than one direct hit|to knock them out.
Again, the recon photos show|they didn't take even one direct hit.
We'll approach from the east.
We'll have the sun at our backs|and in their eyes.
They've got two fighters.
How come he says "we"?|He's not going.
We're "we."
We can expect|light-to-moderate flack.
We'll approach from 12,000.
The cloud cover|is 6,000 to 8,000.
We'll drop at 6,000.|I wish I were going with you.
We'll stay, and you can go.
Lieutenant Halloran,|something you wanna say?
No, sir.
I'm sure none of us want to miss|whatever it is you have to add.
- Yes, sir.|- Yes, sir, what, Lieutenant?
Yes, sir, I'm sure none of us would like|to miss anything I have to add, sir.
Except I have nothing to add, so there's|nothing for any of us to miss, sir.
Takeoff is at 0800.|Good luck, gentlemen.
" Light-to-moderate flack." What the hell|is light-to-moderate flack?
Less than heavy flack.
It's more than no flack.
You got a point there.
He wishes|he could go with us.
Somebody's got to stay behind|to volunteer us.
This is a radio check.|Pilot to tail. Farrell, okay?
Everything's fine, sir.|Radio's okay. Ammo's okay.
Radio check.|Pilot to waist. Giler?
- Yes, sir?|- How we doin'?
All set, sir.|Radio's okay. Ammo's okay.
Radio check.|Pilot to turret. Lucas?
Yes, sir. Ready, sir.|Ammo's okay. Radio's okay.
- Bomb bay closed?|- Bomb bay closed.
- Flaps locked?|- Flaps locked.
I don't understand it.
They make it so goddamn hard|to get in these things.
I don't even want to be here|in the first place.
I mean, I can understand|them making it hard to get out.
Everybody wants to get out.
You know these things|are made of metal, right?
Did you ever try and pick one up?|You can't. You know why?
Because it's made of metal,|and metal's heavy. Very heavy.
You don't believe me? Just try|and pick one of these things up.
You'll see. You'll wrench your back,|that's what you'll do.
Air isn't heavy, you know?
This pile ofjunk is heavy.
It's heavier than air.|Much heavier.
Don't you see?
This thing is not supposed|to be up in the air.
Jesus, I hate these things!
Pacer Leader to Pacer Group,|we are 20 miles from target.
Descending to 6,000.|Bombs away at 6,000.
Roger, Pacer Leader.|Descending to 6,000.
This is Pacer Leader to Group.|Maintain your positions.
We are 12 miles from target.
Rate of descent: :|1,000 feet per minute.
They're shooting guns at us!
Somebody forgot|to tell the Germans...
they're only supposed to have|light-to-moderate flack today.
Bomb bay open.
Seven miles to target.
Feather it.
- Number two feathered.|- Let's turn the hell back.
- How far from target?|- Five miles. Let's turn the hell back!
- He's right.|- We'll have to slow to 200.
- We'll be sitting ducks at that speed.|- We're gonna get our asses shot off.
How far from target?
Three miles. Am I the only one|who's not crazy here?
Cimino, you ever take a look|at Hyer?
If there's a god,|he doesn't spend all that time...
putting a guy like Hyer|through prep school and Yale...
to let him do something messy|like die in an airplane.
So as long as we're|in the same plane as Hyer...
God's gonna have to figure|another way to get at us.
I'm messy enough|to take Hyer down with me.
We're over the target.
The wing is gonna fall off...|I'm gonna drop the bombs.
- Then let's get the hell out of here.|- Just a second.
Son of a bitch, we're over the target!|The engine's falling off.
Chief, what do you think?
I think it'll hold.|If you wanna wait, I'm with you.
Terrific! We've got|Sergeant York on the plane.
I hate you, Lucas,|goddamn it!
Look, we're over the goddamn target.|I'm gonna drop the bombs.
Let me drop the bombs.|We're over the target, I swear to God!
My guess is you may be sighting|a little bit early...
because you're afraid|the wing's gonna fall off...
so I'm gonna wait|just a few more seconds.
If anyone's interested,|I hate Lieutenant David Halloran...
- Serial number 0573 27...|- 969.
For God's sake,|let him drop the bombs.
If we don't hit the stupid target now,|we're gonna have to come back again.
- Now we're really over the damn target!|- Well, drop the bombs!
They're away.
Jesus, I hate these things!
I was there on the street|for over an hour, just watching you.
I was afraid, so I stayed|where you couldn't see me.
Are you still afraid?
I wasn't a few minutes ago|when we had something to do...
like driving or walking...
but now I just feel|awkward again.
I don't know|what I'm doing here.
Yes, you do.
Yes, I do.
I'm not hungry anymore.
Neither am I.
Thursday. I can get back|to London next Thursday.
- Tell me your name.|- I can't.
- Please.|- No.
I'm frightened.|It's all happening so fast.
I bet your name is really Fred,|and you're embarrassed.
Hey, Fred?
I think I love you.
Pacer Leader to Pacer Group,|we are 20 miles from target.
Begin your descent now.|Bombs away at 8,000 feet.
Ten thousand.
Open bomb bays.
Bomb bays open.
They're shooting guns|at us again.
How come every time we fly over them,|they shoot guns at us?
Because we drop bombs on 'em.
They have no sense of humor.|Can't you guys take a joke?
- Nine thousand.|- Five miles to target.
- How far is target now?|- Three miles.
We're just about over the target.
- Cimino, drop 'em.|- Now?
They're away.|Halloran, I love you.
There is a god.|There really is a god.
Ladies and gentlemen,|there really is a god.
I'm gonna go to church|as soon as we get back.
Oh, I haven't been there|for a little while.
What kind of babies do you get|when you cross a parakeet with a tiger?
I give up.|What kind of babies?
I don't know, but when he sings,|you better listen.
- You think that's funny, don't you?|- Yes.
- You're a wretched little child.|- If I am, it's your fault.
Really? Why?
Mrs. Thomas said today that children|are the reflection of their parents.
- Do you think that's true?|- I don't know.
If so, how come Dennis Caine doesn't|have a mustache like his father?
He's a reflection of his mother.
Dennis calls his mother|and father by their names.
- I think that's smashing.|- Oh, you do?
I'm getting a little too old to keep on|calling you Mommy and Daddy.
You don't call me Mommy and Daddy.|You only call me Daddy.
I'm serious. I think from now on|I shall call you Paul.
- If that's what you'd like.|- Yes, Paul, that's what I would like.
I think that from now on|I shall call you Margaret.
And I think from now on|I shall call you Rover.
I think I'll call you Mommy.
For a very short person,|you're not bad at all.
- More tea?|- Love some.
Judy Fox stole my key chain|with the four-leaf clover.
- Stole it?|- Yes.
How do you know|she stole it?
I brought it to school...|I always carry it...
and when I was getting changed|after hockey, I couldn't find it.
And then later,|she had it.
When I told her it was mine,|she said she'd always had it...
that I wasn't the only person|who had a four-leaf clover key chain.
And I know it's mine.|She's really a nit.
Everybody's supposed to be nice to her|just because her father died.
- When did her father die?|- A few months ago, in Africa.
She said it was|her key chain, and it isn't.
I'm glad you're intelligent|and you won't get killed.
I'm in Intelligence.|I'm not intelligent.
And you should be|especially kind to her now.
You won't die,|will you, Daddy?
I thought you were|gonna call me Paul.
- Promise me.|- I promise you.
- And you will always love me?|- I will always love you.
- And you will always love Mommy?|- I will always love Mommy.
- Even when you're 80?|- Yes.
I will have to take my false teeth|out of the glass...
and put them in my mouth|to kiss her.
- We're going back to Rouen today.|- I think I'm gonna be sick.
We have reason to believe|the Krauts are sending...
a trainload of ammunition|from Rouen south.
They're gonna be expecting us.|It's not gonna be easy.
- We reckon we'll get a lot of flack.|- I'm definitely gonna be sick.
Halloran, you fly lead.|Patman, you fly second lead.
We got cloud cover|from 8,000 to 10,000.
Scattered clouds from 15,000.|You make your drop at 6,000.
I know what it's going to be like,|so be careful.
He knows what|it's gonna be like!
He flew 100 missions over Texas,|and he knows what it's gonna be like!
We should have five- To ten-mile|visibility below 8,000...
and you make your approach|from south to north.
You gotta hand it to him:
Nobody ever took Texas|while he was there.
Takeoff is at 0830.|Good luck, men.
I wish I could have gone with you.
Lieutenant Halloran, I'd like|to speak with you for a moment.
Take it easy with him.|Don't say anything you'll regret later.
Don't take it easy with him.|Say something you'll regret later.
Maybe we'll get grounded.
Sit down, Lieutenant.
In every group of men,|there's always one man...
the others look to|for leadership.
In this group,|you happen to be that man.
You set a good example,|the others will follow.
You've got the makings|of a very fine officer.
You could go far.|You could go very far.
It's your attitude|that concerns me.
- You understand what I'm saying?|- No, sir.
I don't like you either, buster!
You stop crapping around|in the briefings, you understand?
No, sir.
- What do you mean, "no"?|- No, sir. I don't understand, sir.
What "crapping around," sir?
You're a wiseass.
- You even say "sir" like a wiseass.|- How should I say "sir," sir?
I'm gonna get you.|That's what I'm gonna do.
Blink the wrong way|and I'm gonna nail you.
- Do you understand?|- Yes, sir, you're gonna nail me.
Will you get the hell|out of here?
- You okay?|- Yeah.
- What did he say?|- He said he didn't like my attitude.
- Lucas, did you check this gear?|- Sure I checked it, sir.
- I checked them all, like I always do.|- Tire pressure?
Fine, sir. What's the matter, sir?|You've never done this before.
Check them again.
I like this attitude.
It's different,|but it's one fine attitude.
When I was little, I spent summers|at my grandfather's.
- It looked exactly like this.|- You worked on a farm?
Yes, why?
You just don't seem|like the farm type to me.
- I can milk a cow.|- Her Ladyship can milk a cow?
She can.
- With her very own hands?|- No, with her feet.
Why do you find it so incredible|that I can milk a cow?
Lots of people can.
Haven't you ever milked one?
- I opened a bottle once.|- Don't they drink milk in Chicago?
Sure. How do you think baby gangsters|grow up to be big gangsters?
There's a place to eat over there.|You hungry?
- Famished.|- Good. I want some tea. I love tea.
- Did I ever tell you that?|- No.
It's true.|I drink it all the time.
- Halloran?|- Yes.
I love you.|My name is Margaret.
No kidding?
No kidding.
You love me?
I love you.
And your name's Margaret?
My name is Margaret.
Maggie.|I like the name Maggie.
I can't stop it, you know,|no matter how hard I try.
It terrifies me|how much I want you.
It must be wrong|to want someone this urgently.
I know later|that I'll feel guilty.
Later I'll hurt terribly.
Except I'm with you now,|and that's all I can think about.
I love you, Margaret.
I love you, Halloran.
Captain Sellinger, I believe|you've met Captain Lester.
Yes, sir, I have.
New tobacco.|Do you like it?
Yes, it seems quite pleasant.
- Very bad business.|- Beg your pardon?
Captain Lester.
As you know, two months ago...
one of your agents, Reed,|was dropped in Lyons.
- Two weeks later, he was killed.|- Yes?
A month ago,|you sent another agent in.
- Forbes. A good man.|- Quite.
Yesterday, we received word|that Forbes had been found dead.
What do you think?
I trained both of those men.
I knew them well.|Very well.
They were not the kind of men|to make mistakes.
Especially mistakes so glaring|they would be found out in a few weeks.
There's a leak.|There has to be a leak somewhere.
The identity of those men had to have|been known before they were dropped.
It would take that long|just to find them.
There's a double agent here.|Fairly high up, I'd say.
It's the only explanation|I can have.
I agree.
The last communication|we received from Forbes...
was that gestapo headquarters|in Lyons...
has a list of double agents|in London.
He said he'd try to get that list.|That's the last we heard from him.
This stuff is bloody awful.
It may smell good.|It tastes like hell!
It's obvious we're going to have|to send somebody in to get that list.
- In gestapo headquarters in Lyons?|- That's where the list is.
That's where our man|will have to go.
He had three children.
- Did you say something?|- I said Forbes had three children.
It's obvious we have to do this|differently this time.
No one, I mean no one|outside of this room may know of it.
No one in OSS.|No one in G-2. No one.
Our man can't even|transmit the list back.
Once he gets it,|he must make a copy of it...
and bring it back without|the Germans knowing about it.
- Who do we have?|- I've narrowed the list to two...
McCallum and Wells.
- I say Wells.|- Quite right.
- You'll work with him.|- I'm not sure if he's ready.
You make him ready.
That's better.
They can take that aromatic|and put it in their noses.
- God, I think I'm going to die!|- Of what?
- Look, Mommy, isn't she beautiful?|- Yes, she is.
Isn't she the most beautiful thing|you ever saw?
Who's more beautiful than she is?
You are.
She can close her eyes,|and you can curl her hair.
Yes, she's a wonderful doll.
Let's think of what|to get Daddy for Christmas.
I suppose there's no particular reason|you wanted me to see that doll.
- No reason in particular.|- It has nothing to do with Christmas?
Of course not.
Mommy, when am I going|to get breasts?
- Next Tuesday. Why?|- Sometimes I think they look silly.
They do look best|with formal wear.
What would Daddy like?
I think he'll like|anything you get him.
I want to get him|something special.
- How about a tie?|- A tie's nice. Daddy has ties.
Daddy has most|of the things we've seen.
I want to get him something|that he doesn't have.
Then get him a dress.
Just get him something you like.
Daddy will love that|because it's from you.
Not because it's blue or red,|but because it's from you.
Mommy, do you know|any Germans?
- Not too many.|- What are they like?
I don't really know.|Probably very much like us.
Do you think there are|German children...
buying Christmas presents|for their fathers right now?
Yes, I suppose so.
Handkerchiefs!|Let's get Daddy handkerchiefs!
I can never get over the way|the propellers seem to spin backwards.
Backwards? The propellers|are spinning backwards?
Forget it.
The goddamn propellers|are spinning backwards!
- I'm supposed to forget it?|- It's an optical illusion.
- Forget it!|- Optical illusion, my ass!
How do you know forward|from backwards with a propeller?
If we take off. For France|and land in New York...
the propellers|are spinning backwards.
- I hope they're spinning backwards.|- Tower, this is Leader. Over.
- Leader, this is Tower. Over.|- Starting to taxi. Over.
- Roger, Leader. Over.|- Just my luck. They're spinning forward.
Want me to take it up|for you?
- Listen to number one.|- Why? What's wrong?
I don't know.|Something doesn't sound right.
Leader, this is Tower.|Over.
Just one second, Tower.|Over.
- Check the RPMs.|- RPMs normal.
- Oil pressure?|- Leader, this is Tower. Over.
Lucas, are you hearing|number one?
Something doesn't sound right.
Can't tell from here, sir.|Did you check the gauges?
- The gauges are okay.|- I can't tell from here.
I hear something wrong.|I hear everything wrong.
Something's not right.
The gauges don't always show it.
Leader, this is Tower.|Please answer. Over.
Tower, this is Leader.|Over.
Begin your takeoff...
I got a problem with my number one.|I'm coming back. Over.
Repeat that please, Leader.
I got a problem with my number one.|Over. I'm coming back.
Roger, Leader.|You are returning to base.
Patman, you're the new leader.|Over.
Roger, Tower. Over.
Price, you become|Patman's number two.
Dennison, please follow Price.
Patman, you are clear|for takeoff... Over.
Roger, Tower.|Clear for takeoff...
Now listen, you creature,|it's very late.
If you want Christmas morning to come,|you'll have to go to sleep now.
- But I can't sleep.|- I know that, but you have to.
Father Christmas will not bring you|anything until you're asleep.
- Why?|- It's the rules.
- I just want to say hello to him.|- He's busy.
Will the Germans shoot him|while he's flying?
No, of course not.
I don't care what I get.|I mean, anything will make me happy.
Of course.
There's nothing in particular|that you want.
No, nothing in particular.|Anything will make me happy.
It would be nice, though, if I had|a little friend of my own to play with.
I'll have another baby.
You know what I mean.|Not a real person, just... you know.
I haven't the faintest idea|what you're talking about.
Now, good night, old friend.
Dream the sweetest dreams.|Tomorrow is Christmas.
And if you don't go to sleep now,|I'll strangle you.
Well, young lady,|if you're not tired, I am.
Wait till you see|what I got you.
If it's from you,|I'll love it.
- Good night.|- Good night.
I'm sound asleep.
Did you put her present out|for tomorrow?
Yes. It's right in the middle|of the living room...
her glazed little eyes|staring at the window.
- What does she want with another doll?|- God knows.
I've never seen a child want anything|more than she wants that doll.
Sarah's hands are so small.
During the day, when she's rushing|around like a maniac...
she doesn't seem so small.
But when she's in her bed|and she's sleepy...
I think she shrinks.
I know what you mean.
It's so strange.
It's Christmas Eve,|and we're fighting a war.
Fighting wars never seemed|to make much sense.
Just seems it makes less sense|on Christmas Eve.
I wonder what the other side|is thinking right now.
- Night, darling.|- Good night.
I love you.
I love you.
Harriet, you have a beautiful throat,|you know that?
- My name is Phyllis!|- Of course it is.
You have a beautiful throat too.
- Do you want to dance?|- Susan, my darling...
ordinarily that would be|a wonderful suggestion.
Under certain conditions,|I am your actual Fred Astaire.
However, since the injury...
What injury?
I don't like to talk about it.
I didn't know|you were wounded.
Just a little shrapnel|in the leg.
How come they didn't send you home|if you were wounded?
They wanted to.|I wouldn't go.
Nothing will keep me|from flying.
- Lieutenant, that's really very, very...|- Paula, my sweet...
Paula, it's really nothing|to make a fuss about.
Sometimes the pain...
" But what's life without pain?"|I always say.
How about another little drinky?
- Hey, Cimino?|- Hello, Hyer.
Listen, you gotta help me.
- Have you met Barbara?|- Phyllis!
- Have you ever seen such a throat?|- Listen, Jerry.
I got this one all primed...
except she won't leave|her friend alone.
Hyer, I've always harbored a suspicion|that blue eyes don't see so good.
Too much inbreeding.
Have you taken|a good look at Dorothy?
What am I gonna do?
How about Halloran?|Give one to Halloran.
- I don't think so.|- Come on. It's a terrific idea.
Come on, Rita. We're gonna all go over|and be with Halloran.
I thought you had|an injured leg.
My God, I can walk again!
Ladies, this is our leader.
Leader, these are our ladies.
This is Elizabeth.|Elizabeth, meet Halloran.
- This is Audrey.|- Phyllis!
- Where are you from?|- Illinois.
- Pretty decorations, aren't they?|- Yes.
Let's go somewhere|we can be alone.
I want to stay here.
It's Christmas...
and I am your actual serviceman|alone overseas.
I want to stay here.
Marion, perhaps you are a spy.
- Are you all right?|- Yeah.
Let me put it another way.|Let's fool around.
- Okay.|- There is a god.
They're back.
- Where's Patman?|- He'll be here in a minute. Don't worry.
- Who's Patman?|- Patman, my luscious Linda...
is the brave soul who flew lead|instead of us this fine day...
because of a port engine|with the holiday spirit.
He'll be here in a minute.
Hey, Beef.
Halloran, how you doing?
- How did it go today?|- Not so good. We lost three.
You are one lucky son of a bitch,|let me tell you!
- Where's Patman?|- One lucky son of a bitch.
I never saw an airplane break up|into so many little pieces.
- Where's Patman?|- He took a direct hit.
It must have been right|in the bomb bay with a full load.
- Maybe he bailed out.|- Not a chance.
I never saw so many little pieces.
Where's that Cimino?|I wanna tell him.
If it hadn't been|for that engine of yours...
it would have been you|instead of Patman.
I wanna tell Cimino|to go kiss that engine of yours.
What's the matter?
You heard it, didn't you?|The port engine. Something was wrong.
- Sure. Come on, sit down.|- You heard something wrong, didn't you?
Every time an engine starts up,|I hear something wrong.
It was something!
It was.
Ladies, let's all play|follow-the-leader.
Come on, Francine.
You found it, didn't you?|You found it, goddamn you!
- You found it, right?|- I don't know yet.
- Tell me you found it, you jerk!|- Take it easy!
- He heard it!|- Excuse me, Flo. Don't go away.
- Hi, guys.|- I heard it. I heard it!
Come on.
I heard it. I heard it, believe me.|Patman, I heard it!
- I thought we were gonna play.|- No, we're not gonna play.
Believe me, Patman!
I heard it, Patman!
Goddamn you!|Goddamn you, Patman!
Please don't smoke.
Lieutenant Wells...
English is a language|you do not understand.
You have never spoken|a word of it in your life.
They didn't teach you|English in Essen.
You must never speak in English|or respond to English, even around here.
No matter who is talking to you,|if it is in English...
you do not understand.
I don't care if it's the PM himself|who's talking to you.
One slip like that|and you're quite dead.
All right, lesson over.
It's time we took a break.
Don't be discouraged.|You're doing fine. Just fine.
Come on.|I'll pay for the tea.
Come on.|It's all right.
Lieutenant Wells,|class is over for the afternoon.
Sometimes|when we're together...
I feel so close that I don't know|where I end and you begin.
I never knew|it could be like that.
I was 19 when I got married.|He was the only man I'd ever known.
I never felt I lacked anything.
It's just that I wasn't sure|if this was it.
If this was everything.
Maybe that's why I went with you|that first day at the bus stop.
It's so damned unfair. I try so hard|to forget you. I really do.
I wind up spending all my time|trying to forget you...
which is the same as thinking|of you all the time.
I don't want to hurt anybody.|I don't want to do anything wrong.
Sometimes I sit across the dinner table|from him, and I watch him.
I want him so desperately|to do something...
or say something or be something|that I can hate.
But he never does.
I've hurt him so much.
It makes me hate myself|and wish I'd never met you.
But then, when I'm with you...
and it's so strong,|and I don't ever want to let you go...
Why don't things work out|the way they're supposed to?
I don't know how things|are supposed to work out.
I don't know anymore|what I heard in that engine.
A couple of months ago,|the propeller could have fallen off...
and I wouldn't have gone back.
It's so damn easy to be brave|when you haven't got anything to lose.
I'm scared now.
I don't want to die|and not see you anymore.
Nothing makes any sense|until I'm with you...
and then everything makes sense.
I don't wanna let you go.
I just wanna be with you|all the time.
I don't want to wake up|in the morning...
and not know|if I'm going to see you that evening.
I'm tired of missing you.|I don't even know your last name.
I'm all in pieces.|I want you to put me back together.
Hold me now and make|everything outside go away.
On the way in to see you...
I was trying to think of a way...
to tell you that we shouldn't|see each other anymore.
I did the same thing.
Haasil 2003 CD1
Haasil 2003 CD2
Habre Con Ella
Hafid - the sea
Haine 1995
Hairdresser 2003
Hakochavim Shel Shlomi 2003
Hakuchi - The Idiot CD1
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Halalabad Blues 2002
Halbe Treppe
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Halls of Montezuma (1950)
Hamam - The Turkish Bath (1997) 29
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Hanging Offense 2003
Hanging Up
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Harte Jungs - Ants In The Pants 2000
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Henry V
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Hercules in the Haunted World
Herencia (2001)
Herencia (Inheritance) 2001 (23976)
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Hi Mom 1970
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Hidden Fortress - Criterion Collection
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High Fidelity
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High Wind In Jamaica A (1965)
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Hill The
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Himalaya - lenfance dun chef
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His Girl Friday
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Histoire D O (1975)
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Hitcher II - I have been waiting
Hitcher The
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Hitlerjunge Salomon - Europa Europa
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How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days
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Hurricane 1937
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Hyojadongibalsa 2004
Hypnosis (Saimin 1999)
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Hypo-Chondri-Cat The (1950)