| He’s a sax maniac with a devils eye
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| Hair slicked back and head cocked high
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| He can rattle and play any club in town
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| & revel and level it to the ground
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| Running down the streets in a a Hitchcock haze
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| running for cover thru the alley ways
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| The junkyeard dogs are howling tonight
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| rippin' and rockin' round the factory lights
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| Oh bee bop baby gonna blow your top hey oh hey o
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| gonna rip it rock it rattle & hide
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| bee bop baby gonna blow your top better keep running
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| Down at the diner where the records spins
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| feel the third degree with a 5th of gin
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| the hotrod cars are revving up tonight
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| big rockin' daddy’s gonna start a fight
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| Oh bee bop baby gonna blow your top hey oh hey o
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| gonna rip it rock it rattle & hide
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| bee bop baby gonna blow your top better keep running
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| Gotta meet Jimmy at the 5 and dime
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| with a soda pop grin and a rhubarb pie
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| cool cat cryin' on the microphone
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| to the sound of a dirty saxaphone
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| Oh bee bop baby gonna blow your top hey oh hey o
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| gonna rip it rock it rattle & hide
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| bee bop baby gonna blow your top better keep running |