| Poor old Johnny Ray
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| Sounded sad upon the radio
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| He moved a million hearts in mono
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| Our mothers cried
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| Sang along and who’d blame them
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| You’ve grown, so grown
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| Now I must say more than ever
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| Toora Loora, Toora Loo-Rye-Aye
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| We can sing just like our fathers
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| Come on Eileen
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| Oh I swear what I mean
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| At this moment you mean everything
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| You in that dress
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| Oh my thoughts I confess verge on dirty
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| Oh come on Eileen
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| These people round here
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| Wear beaten down eyes sunk in smoke dried faces
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| So resigned to what their fate is
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| But not us, no, not us
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| We are far too young and clever
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| Toora Loora, Toora Loo-Rye-Aye
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| Eileen, I’ll hum this tune forever
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| Come on Eileen
|
| Oh I swear what I mean
|
| At this moment you mean everything
|
| You in that dress
|
| My thoughts I confess verge on dirty
|
| Oh come on Eileen
|
| Come on Eileen
|
| Oh I swear what I mean
|
| At this moment
|
| Oh come on Eileen |