| Sun shinin' bright blue skies up above
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| Strollin' through the city of brotherly love
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| Yeah, Third and South where she hangs out
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| When she strolls by all the fellas call and shout for her
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| I cut across the street, her eyes don’t meet
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| She strolls by, she don’t give me the eye
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| She don’t turn her head
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| Yeah, she’s sassy, she’s brassy, above all she’s classy
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| She’s put together like an Austin Healy chassis with a tan
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| She’s always grand
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| Talkin' bout Luann
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| She’s alright alone, she don’t need company
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| Miss Luann never, ever, ever looks twice at me
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| I don’t turn her head
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| Yeah, she ain’t been to college
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| But she’s been to school
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| And she knows how to wear those FM shoes
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| Yes, she can
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| I’d give a grand
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| Just to meet Luann
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| Woo
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| At the weekend dance she shows up late
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| The fellas stand around, they just can’t wait for her
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| Yeah, but they ain’t got a chance
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| She don’t give them a glance
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| Don’t you know Luann is just too cool too dance
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| Too bad
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| Talkin' bout Louann |