| You got none in your pockets
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| You got none in your hands
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| Well, I don’t have to see your eyes
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| To know what you’re not thinkin'
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| And even when you’re not the best
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| You still try hard as hell
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| Well, I saw him walkin’in the alley
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| He stopped to wish me well
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| And he told me go to California
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| 'Cause that’s where it all sells
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| And I knew this girl from Atlantic City
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| Full of generality
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| All she could do is talk and smile
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| But she got the best of me And even when you’re not the best
|
| You still try hard as hell
|
| Well, I saw her walkin’in the alley
|
| She stopped to wish me well
|
| And she told me go to California
|
| 'Cause that’s where it all sells
|
| And you find porch on Church Avenue
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| You’re laughin’at me now
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| 'Cause you were standin’when I came here
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| And you’re still standin'
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| And when you know you’re not the best
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| You hope no one can tell
|
| Well, I saw them layin’in the alley
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| I stopped to wish them well
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| And you know I went to California |