| Come on people and listen to me
|
| I tell you the story of Carl and Joey.
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| The girls they fucked and the women they layed
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| This is the story of the love they made.
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| Don’t get excited, be patient, please
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| Just put your hand on your lover’s knees.
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| And during the movie, if you get a chance,
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| Put your hand inside her pants.
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| Oh, quiet days in Clichy
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| Oh, quiet days in Clichy
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| Now perhaps you are ready to see
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| The story of the place Clichy
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| So come and let us spend a while
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| With Joey and his french friend Carl.
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| Oh, quiet days in Clichy
|
| Oh, quiet days in Clichy
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| There were two girls from the café,
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| We picked both of them up one day.
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| We took both of them to our flat
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| And the red-headed one gave Carl the clap.
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| Oh quiet days in Clichy
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| Oh quiet days in Clichy.
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| The dark-haired girl took off her shoe
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| She smiled at Joey and then she was through.
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| He tried everything but just as luck
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| The one from Jamaica just wouldn’t fuck.
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| Oh quiet days in Clichy
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| Oh quiet days in Clichy.
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| The sad-eyed girl from the grocery store,
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| Her American husband didn’t love her anymore.
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| He deserted her, he vanished away
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| And she wants to speak English now night and day.
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| Oh quiet days in Clichy
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| Oh quiet days in Clichy.
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| They would go to a movie and then for a walk
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| And to the apartment for some fun and talk.
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| She would sleep with one or she would sleep with the other,
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| As long as they spoke English it really didn’t matter.
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| Oh quiet days in Clichy
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| Oh quiet days in Clichy.
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| Little Colette she has no sense
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| Serving the breakfast without her pants
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| Spoiling the coffee, burning the eggs,
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| All of her brains are between her legs.
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| Oh quiet days in Clichy
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| Oh quiet days in Clichy.
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| Baby Colette she’s all grown up
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| Sweeping the floor and washing the tub
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| Cleaning the dishes and ironing the clothes
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| What she’s thinking, God only knows.
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| Oh quiet days in Clichy
|
| Oh quiet days in Clichy.
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| Then there was Jean from the Herald Tribune
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| Bringing bottles of wine up to their room.
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| They could squeeze her tits and rub her crack,
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| But the thought of fucking drove her quite mad.
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| Oh quiet days in Clichy
|
| Oh quiet days in Clichy.
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| At the thought of a cock inside her cunt
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| She would always begin to smash the place up.
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| She would weep and screech and scream and cry
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| And then come back for another try.
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| Oh quiet days in Clichy
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| Oh quiet days in Clichy
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| Oh quiet days in Clichy.
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| Oh quiet days in Clichy
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| Oh quiet days in Clichy. |