| Took the Continental Trailways
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| 'Cause I didn’t have the fare
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| To get from Cincinnati to Los Angeles by air
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| The guy who said he’d meet me
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| In a shiny limousine
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| With a contract in his pocket
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| Turned out to be a queen
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| He could not see my body
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| Or appreciate my good looks
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| Had I fallen for some story
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| That I read in all of the books
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| But I ain’t
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| Goin' back
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| To the bottom side of the tracks
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| No, No, and I ain’t
|
| Goin' back
|
| To the bottom side of the tracks
|
| No I ain’t goin' back
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| To Cincinnati
|
| So I got myself an agent
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| With a roll of dollar bills
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| And a Beverly type mansion
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| In the middle of the hills
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| I was friendly with producers
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| And was heading out with the stars
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| I played the backseat heroine
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| In a thousand different cars
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| From Cavalier to Playboy
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| To the Johnny Carson show
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| To holding up some dogfood
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| For a firm in Idaho
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| I’ve a screen-test every weekend
|
| And I’m constantly on call
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| I’ll be twenty-five next summer
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| And thirty-five next fall
|
| But I ain’t
|
| Goin' back
|
| To the bottom side of the track
|
| No, No, and I ain’t
|
| Goin' back
|
| To the bottom side of the track
|
| You’ll never get me to go back
|
| Ain’t goin' back
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| To Cincinnati |