| It’s ninety-three degrees
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| And the radio says a storm front’s movin' in
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| Sure is hot
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| There’s a double feature down at the Fox, but everybody’s seen it twice
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| And, besides, the air conditioner’s broke
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| The old lady who runs the ice cream store got robbed last week
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| She put a lock on the door and a bell on the lock
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| Now she doesn’t answer the door
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| 'Cause she takes that good long look at you, and you look too tough
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| The air is hot and heavy and wet, and you just can’t get high
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| That’s when sparks fly on E Street
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| And the little girls walking lookin' so hot
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| And the little boys' souls grow weak when the girls give them a double shot
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| School boy pops pull out the stops on a Friday night
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| And those teenage tramps in skin-tight pants do the E Street dance
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| But in their heart and soul they know it’s all right
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| Just like those kids down there, ooh, hooked up in a scuffle
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| Dressed in snake skin suits
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| Packed with Detroit muscle
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| Doin' the E Street shuffle
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| Ooh, the shuffle
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| Doin' the E Street shuffle
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| Ooh, the shuffle |