| Neffertiti came out west in a stolen limousine
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| Twenty dollars to her name and a walk like you ain’t never seen
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| She moved into number eight with just a bottle in her hand
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| An old radio wrapped up in it’s cord and no particular plan
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| I watched her in the hallway. |
| She blew me a little kiss
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| And said, «Hey, baby, what’s a boy like you, doin' in a place like this?»
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| Then she said, «Well, I hate to be the one to have to give you the news
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| But this world ain’t nothin' but a one way ticket to the blues.»
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| Then she said, «Baby,» she said, «Baby…
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| Baby, can you help me find a soul station on this old radio?
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| And we can steal us a little salvation if you got no place else to go
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| Oh, baby, can you help me find a soul station? |
| I’m feeling kinda low
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| And if you use your… use your 'magination
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| Baby, I dance jus' like Brigitte Bardot.»
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| I was sweepin' a warehouse floor 'cross town midnight to eight
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| If my ship was ever comin' in, it sure was dockin' late
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| Neffertiti was dancin' six nights at a club jut off the strip
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| After work we’d meet for breakfast, I’d help her count up all her tips
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| She’d stuff some money in my pocket and say, «Baby, go back home
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| Now what you tryin' to prove, boy, in this city all alone
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| Then she said, «Well, I hate to be the one to have to give you the news
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| But this world ain’t nothin' but a one way ticket to the blues.»
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| Spoken:
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| She’d say, «Mamma must be worried sick about you.»
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| She’d make me send home letters every… 'bout every month or so
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| So I’d be there writing at her kitchen table
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| And Neffertiti’d be dancin' to the sweet soul music playin' on her radio
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| «Mamma wants to rock you, rock you slow
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| To the sweet soul music on the radio.»
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| Neffertiti came out west in a stolen limousine |