| Last Saturday afternoon
|
| She and me could not agree
|
| We got mad and both decided
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| To lock the door, throw away the key
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| I drove off to Santa Barbara
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| She kept on at acting school
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| Driving in my yellow sports car
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| I would never play the fool
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| Made it to the other freeway
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| And stopped to get some gasoline
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| I had not been so downhearted
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| Not since I was seventeen
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| I found the men’s room after looking
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| Around the corner of the place
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| Over letters M-E-N
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| The note was pinned up to my face
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| It said:
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| I still love you
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| I wish there was some way to show you
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| I’m thinking of you
|
| And I can’t pretend that I don’t know you
|
| I still love you
|
| I wish there was some way to show you
|
| I’m thinking of you
|
| And I can’t pretend that I don’t know you
|
| Last Saturday afternoon
|
| She and me could not agree
|
| We got mad and both decided
|
| To lock the door, throw away the key
|
| I drove off to cold Rhode Island
|
| She kept living on her own
|
| I was dreaming at the stoplight
|
| I talked on the telephone
|
| I said:
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| I still love you
|
| I wish there was some way to show you
|
| I’m thinking of you
|
| And I can’t pretend that I don’t know you |