| Saturday night at eight o’clock
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| I know where I’m gonna go,
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| I’m gonna pick my baby up,
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| And take her to the picture show.
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| Ev’rybody in the neighborhood
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| Is dressin' up to be there too,
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| And we’re gonna be a ball
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| Just like we always do.
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| A' Saturday night at the movies,
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| Who cares what picture you see
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| when you’re huggin' with your baby i
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| n the last row in the balcony?
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| There’s Technicolor and Cinemascope,
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| A cast out a Holly wood,
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| And the popcorn from the candy store,
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| Makes it all seem twice as good.
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| There’s alway lots of pretty girls
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| With figures they don’t try to hide,
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| But they never can compare
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| To the girl sittin' by my side.
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| A' Saturday night at the movies,
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| Who cares what picture you see
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| when you’re huggin' with your baby
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| in the last row in the balcony?
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| Movies are better than ever,
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| And just as dark as before,
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| And Saturday night when you’re with your baby,
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| Who could ask for anything more?
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| A' Saturday night at the movies,
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| Who cares what picture you see
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| when you’re huggin' with your baby
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| in the last row in the balcony? |