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Well it's too damn early and your eyes are bleeding |
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From the vicious bottle the night before |
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And the last thing you need is a nicety-nice |
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And small talk crawls out your ears |
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Maybe it makes you feel just like an undercover |
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Sigmund Freud |
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I hear it makes you feel just like an undercover |
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Sigmund Freud |
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Hey there, hey now, hey there, hey now |
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Well you can make a pacemaker blink, yeah, easy thing |
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Make a man's heart go bibbity-bom bippity-bom bippity-bom |
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Like a gentle drum |
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And knowing you it ain't ever done |
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So go on, go on, go on, darling, go on |
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Yeah go on, go on darling, go on, go on |
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Yeah, the secretaries and typewriters chattering away |
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Chatter-chatter-chatter-chatter chatter-chatter-chatter, chatter away |
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It ought to make you sick when you hear a woman cry |
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When she don't get just whatever she wants |
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But not my woman, she just keeps on keeping on, |
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That's my woman, my woman |
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That moving on shuffle side to side |
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That sure can turn me on |
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Dirty ass rock'n'roll |
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Dirty ass rock'n'roll |
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Dirty ass rock'n'roll |
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Dirty ass rock'n'roll |
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Hey now, hey now, hey now, hey now |
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And the beach is a thing and the bees don't sting |
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Like complaining from a downtown whore |
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I got my plasma patches and my hypodermic in hermetically sealed kid gloves |
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Yeah tell me |
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Tell me tell me tell me tell me |
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Tell me Tell me tell me tell me tell me |
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Dirty ass rock'n'roll |
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Dirty ass rock'n'roll |
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Dirty ass rock'n'roll |
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Dirty ass rock'n'roll |