| Nibblin' on sponge cake
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| Watchin' the sun bake
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| All of you para-heads covered with oil
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| Strummin' my six string on my front porch swing
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| Smell those shrimp
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| They’re beginnin' to boil
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| Lobsters, sorry!
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| Wasted away again in Margaritaville
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| Searchin' for my lost shaker of salt
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| Some people claim that there’s a woman to blame
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| But I know this is all Henley’s fault
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| Don’t know the reason
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| Stayed here all season
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| With nothing to show but a brand new tattoo
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| But it’s a real beauty
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| I bet she was a Nantucket cutie, I bet she was a bin-yad
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| I haven’t a clue
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| Wasted away again in Margaritaville, I bet that’s where you are!
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| Searchin' for my lost shaker of salt
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| Some people claim that there’s a woman to blame
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| But I know, this could be my fault. |
| Maybe!
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| I blew out my flip flop
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| Stepped on a pop top
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| Cut my heel, had to limp on back home
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| But there’s booze in the blender
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| And soon it will render
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| That frozen concoction, it helps me hang on
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| Hang on, Hang on, Hang On
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| Wasted away again in Margaritaville (yes I am, yes I am)
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| Searchin' for my lost shaker of salt
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| Some people claim that there’s a woman to blame
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| But I know, it’s my own damn fault
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| Yes, and some people claim that there’s a woman to blame
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| And I know it’s my own damn fault
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| Yes it is, it’s my own damn fault!
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| Thank you, it’s my fault
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| What a great audience to have all this enthusiasm! |