| I’ve got a real important job
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| In a large office buildin'
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| Ridin' people in an elevator
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| I drive a '57 Chevrolet
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| With busted tail lights
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| Burned out valves
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| And a leaky radiator
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| I wear a twenty dollar suit
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| I bought from J.C. Penney’s
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| Back in 1962
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| But I’ve got somethin' to brag about
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| Somethin' to brag about
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| Somethin' to brag about in you
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| I’m a short-order cook
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| At an all night cafe
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| Down on 18th avenue and 12th street
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| I wear a swingin' mini dress
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| That I made for myself
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| From mama’s kitchen curtains
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| And old bed sheets
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| I’ve got 17 pages
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| Of Top Value stamps
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| And one old pair of shoes
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| But I’ve got somethin' to brag about
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| Somethin' to brag about
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| Somethin' to brag about in you
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| When you’re with the fellas, I know
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| You start braggin' 'bout
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| My hour glass figure
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| And my big brown eyes
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| Tell 'em
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| You tell your girlfriends 'bout my
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| Sweet, sweet lovin'
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| And that’s one better that
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| Money can’t buy
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| So let’s get married
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| In the not-to-distant future
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| We’ll rent a little flat
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| On 29th street
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| You know we’ll hang our washin'
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| On the clothes line from the window
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| We’ll feast on corn bread, butter beans and lunch meat
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| We won’t have a thermostat
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| A big long Cadillac
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| But we’ll have a love that’s true
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| Love has, somethin' to brag about
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| Yeah and I’ll have, somethin' to brag about
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| Yeah, somthin' to brag about in you |