| I’ll clap my hands along, and rattle on like a vagabond
|
| I’ll rip my uniform, and bend the floor to the early morning
|
| I’ll shake your dollar bill, and spend it all before the bombs will kill me
|
| I’ll save my best for last and after that don’t even ask me
|
| Clap hands, that’s right
|
| Clap hands, clap hands that’s right
|
| Clap hands clap-clap hands
|
| I’ll take my broken bell, and make it ring like a million churches
|
| I’ll scratch that kind of itch, down in the ditch and switch my plates out
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| I’ll drive to san francisco, death to disco take my shirt off
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| I’ll swim to mexico, don’t tell the mermaids where i’m going
|
| Clap hands, that’s right
|
| Clap hands, clap hands that’s right
|
| Clap hands clap-clap hands
|
| I’ll clap me hands along, and rattle on like a vagabond
|
| I’ll rip my uniform, and bend the floor to the early morning
|
| I’ll shake your dollar bill, and spend it all before the bombs will kill me
|
| I’ll save my best for last and after that don’t even ask me
|
| Clap hands, that’s right clap hands, clap hands that’s right
|
| Clap, clap |