| But were not singing, were just dancing
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| Oh yeah
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| No I don’t like this one
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| People who always call you young
|
| Believe in things that can’t be done
|
| Last chance saloon at the quarter past the hour
|
| In a hole round the corner called the Hammerstaff Moon
|
| There’s a struggle for the power of a band in a wagon
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| A friend that fell off down in Puerto Banús
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| Fluent in Italian, a Spanish Brad Stallion
|
| Fought with the courage of a hundred lost galleons
|
| Sank to the bottom of a foreigner’s shore
|
| Wind down with Valium and walk to the store
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| People who always call you young
|
| Believe in things that can’t be done
|
| It’s the middle of September, I was sitting with a member
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| of a band, full of brandy, crew out in the bush.
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| We’re 'bout to play a show and we’re hyping their record
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| That we’ll probably sample tighten up cos there loose
|
| It’s a sing a long a sing song down a alley ding dong
|
| Drinking a Berocca burn on a hard juice
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| I’m a better go home now got see my friends now
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| Gotta hang up all my travelling shoes
|
| Running in is all that I’ve got
|
| I feel finding a time when I’m feeling lost
|
| As soon as a girl that I trust
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| Comes lost around til she throws me down
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| People who always call you young
|
| Believe in things that can’t be done
|
| Well I say fuck em
|
| Yeah man you can can |