| Filipino Ray, he can sing it out
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| Like you would not believe
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| Always had his blond freckle-faced lady
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| Dangling from his sleeve
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| Filipino Ray, he played an old Les Paul
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| Big ol' jumbo fret
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| Had scars up on the headstock
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| From where he kept his lit cigarette
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| Filipino Ray had a fang tooth
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| And a face like a China moon
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| Them biker gals squealed when he’d flip his hair back
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| Step up to the mic and croon
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| Filipino Ray was a smiler
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| Quick with a tale or a joke
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| And more than happy to lend you his ear
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| Especially if you bought him a fresh bourbon and coke
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| Filipino Ray had seen his share of demons
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| And many days of black
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| But when he picked his guitar and sang back to the bar
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| He pissed the monkey off his back
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| Now Filipino Ray, he could belt it out
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| Like you would not believe
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| It’s been five years for this guitar man
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| Since he rolled up his sleeve
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| Now Filipino Ray, he’s a smiler
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| Quick with a tale or a joke
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| He’d likely as not give you the shirt off his back
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| All over bourbon and coke |