| My lean baby — tall and thin
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| Five feet seven — of bones and skin
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| But when she tells me maybe she loves me I feel as mellow as a fellow can be She’s so skinny — she’s so drawn
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| When she stands sideways — you (would) think (that) she’s gone
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| But when she calls me: «baby" — I feel fine
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| To think she’s frantically, romantically mine
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| She’s slender, but she’s tender
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| She makes my heart surrender
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| And every night, when I hold her tight
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| The feeling is nice — my arms can go around twice
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| My lean baby — she’s so slim
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| A broomstick’s wider — but not as trim
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| And when she starts to kiss me — then I know
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| I love her so, I’ll never, ever, let her go My lean baby — strange to see
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| And all that nothing — it belongs to me And though she may be scrawny — she’s OK
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| Because I wouldn’t want her any other way
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| She’s so skinny — she’s so drawn
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| When she stands sideways — you (would) think (that) she’s gone
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| But when she calls me: «baby" — I feel fine
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| To think she’s frantically, romantically mine
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| I chased her — and I caught her
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| Then a diamond ring — I bought her
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| (Hey) The diamonds shine — the ring is so fine
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| But here is the twist — she wears it right on her wrist
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| My lean baby — she’s so slim
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| A broomstick’s wider — but not as trim
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| And when she starts to kiss me — then I know
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| I love her so, I’ll never, ever, let her go My lean baby — tall and thin…
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| (do-do-do-do-do,…) |