| Well monday morning had me down
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| By tuesday evening i’d come around
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| Friday found me singing on the stage
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| Well i don’t mind working late
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| It keeps the beans on my plate
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| If it weren’t for singing, I might be in the cage
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| Now i got me a basement with a view
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| And i can sleep till ½ past two
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| Some folks call me lazy some call me brave
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| But it don’t matter anyway
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| We do our own things day to day
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| I just ain’t no one else’s slave
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| And all the while the world turns
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| With petty talk and lame concerns
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| And arguments over what you should believe
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| And all the while the world burns
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| It’s clear as day, but nobody learns
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| Cause no one wants a cure for this disease
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| Now i see women everywhere
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| On the street and on the stair
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| Sometimes it’s so hard to keep my cool
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| Platinum blondes who’ve gone brunette
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| And some who ain’t decided yet
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| Lord sometimes they make me feel just like a fool!
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| I know girls with strange tattoos
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| And i know girls who like their booze
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| And i know girls who don’t do nothing but cry
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| I know girls with plastic faces
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| Their picture’s on their pillowcases
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| I know girls who live to love and lie
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| And everytime i turn around
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| Another grave is in the ground
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| They’re selling all kinds of crap on my TV
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| And everytime I turn around
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| Someone says they think the’ve found
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| The answer to some old forgotten mystery
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| Now outside the apartment gates
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| There’s vanity on license plates
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| And a dozen differnt kinds of coffee shops
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| I go walking down that avenue
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| Same as them, same as you
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| Difference is my feet don’t ever stop!
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| Now i know married girls who cheat
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| They say their lives are incomplete
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| And i know girls who say they’ve been betrayed
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| I know some girls who speak of fate
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| And they don’t ever hesitate
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| They say: «life is made of moments, being made»
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| But come midnight it’s all the same
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| It melts into a picture frame
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| And suddenly everythigns so clear
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| The night is cool, the moon is tame
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| And there’s nothing but some crazy dame
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| It’s always these damn women that keep me here
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| Wintertimes, my favorite time
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| I get to see old friends of mine
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| Everybody’s running from the cold
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| But i know someday it’ll all be gone
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| When youth decides to pass me on
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| And time decides to turn my body old
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| But i’ll always love that cheap perfume
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| Messin' with my afternoons
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| And all those pretty women passing by
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| We all sing the same old tune
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| Like the locals in the loud saloon
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| Just doing what were doing till we die |