| Oh dear
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| Not worthwhile going out
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| Don’t play much reggae in the clubs
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| Still, I can still dream
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| Every Wednesday the papers came out
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| The Record Mirror best thing about
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| Brutus Crombie he was a lad
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| When we were skins
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| All the dancehalls were full of skins
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| Sometimes you’d get your head kicked in
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| But still one day, reggae will be king again
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| I hope so anyway
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| Reggae
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| We’d live and die for Friday night
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| Off to the Palais and have a fight
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| Dance to reggae most of the night
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| When we were skins
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| Above all this our one big hope
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| Was pull a bird and have a grope
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| And if you were lucky she’d take you home
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| When we were skins
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| When mom and dad went off to bed
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| You’d stay and maybe have your hand away
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| You never know it might come back
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| When we were skins
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| I had a bird with her hair cropped short
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| Heard pull it about she was quite the sport
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| But that’s what your mates were for we all shared birds
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| When we were skins
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| The stupid topper in a family way
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| Off hours pleasure now I’ve got to pay
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| But it won’t change the way I feel
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| I’m still a skin
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| Music crazes come and go
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| And down at Palais I still make a show
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| But all the birds are dressing up
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| Like something out of the 40's
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| Granny’s flowers and a real long skirt
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| Stiletto heels, I bet they hurt
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| And when they dance it’s a real cheap thrill
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| But they’re not skins
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| We used to dance all night till 6
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| To reggae sounds just like Big 6
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| Those were the days, hope they come back
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| I really do
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| Reggae!
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| We’d live and die for Friday night
|
| Off to the Palais and have a fight
|
| Dance to reggae most of the night
|
| When we were skins
|
| Above all this our one big hope
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| Was flag a bird and have a crafty grope
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| And if you were lucky she’d take you home
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| And let you in
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| Of course I’m down for that
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| La la la la la la |