| So, walking down the boulevard
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| It was late it was cold, I offered her my car
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| Told her that I live not far away
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| She was welcome if she needed a place to stay
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| She told me that she was just new in town
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| She needs some help to learn her way around
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| Then she turned and smiled at me
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| And slowly slipped her way into the seat
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| Every Friday’s love is Monday’s memory
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| Well every lover learns this lesson someday
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| This is how it was taught to me
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| I took her home, I took her in my arms
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| I knew that this was what she wanted all along
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| Held her close, I whispered in her ear
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| Told her things I thought I’d never dare
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| Well how was it, was it just alright?
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| Was it more than just okay?
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| Then she turned and smiled at me
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| And slowly slid beneath the sheet
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| Every Friday’s love is Monday’s memory
|
| Well every lover learns this lesson someday
|
| This is how it was taught to me
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| I coulda just drove off, left well enough alone
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| I coulda have just kept going, just gone on home
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| But when she turned and smiled at me
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| Couldn’t let this young thing walk the street
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| Every Friday’s love is Monday’s memory
|
| Well every lover learns this lesson someday
|
| This is how it was taught to me
|
| Every Friday’s love is Monday’s memory
|
| Well every lover learns this lesson someday
|
| This is how it was taught to me |