| Don’t lie, where have you been?
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| Your teeth are red, your eyes are peppermints
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| Sailing out to sea with your new best friend
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| You don’t like the way you live so you play pretend
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| But isn’t it time you act your age?
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| You got a mortgage on your shoulder, got a babe on the way
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| You shrug it off with a jackass grin
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| Thinking once you clean up you’re going to do it again
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| He says
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| Whoa, oh, oh no
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| I’m going to Pleasure Island, I don’t want to come home
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| Whoa, oh, oh no
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| The reverend says beware, he swears we’re going to hell
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| We may be donkeys but at least we have a tale to tell
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| Don’t start with the slap on the wrist
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| I don’t need no cease and desist
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| I ain’t fooling around and it ain’t no sin
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| So you best be stepping back because ugly ultimatums
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| And never you mind what your old maid says
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| There ain’t nothing to complain so long as you’re earning bread
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| She’s got a way of getting under your skin
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| She plants a little seed of doubt, the guilt blossoms
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| She says
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| Whoa, oh, oh no
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| You’re going to Pleasure Island, you can never come home
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| Whoa, oh, oh no
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| The problem with you, kid, is you can’t say no
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| You can’t take a little nibble, you got to lick the bowl
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| I pushed off, I’m sailing away
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| And I ain’t looking back
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| I can’t look at that face
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| This just might be my greatest mistake
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| So when the future turns away for the present’s presence
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| My life was born of pleasure, but it sure wasn’t pleasant
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| He says
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| Whoa, oh, oh no
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| I’m going to Pleasure Island, I ain’t never going home
|
| Whoa, oh, oh no
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| I’ll make an ass out of myself before I say I’m broke
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| Yeah, I’ll soon be bucking around in the mud
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| Whoa, oh, oh no
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| I’m going to Pleasure Island, I ain’t never going home
|
| Whoa, oh, oh no
|
| The reverend says beware, he swears we’re going to hell
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| The sheriff says be careful, they’re going to throw us in jail
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| We may be donkeys but at least we have a tale to tell |